
JaiWOO, FROM BELOW SOUBABGOOM. 



s,NMART CHROMO IMP 



THE 



INDIAN ALPS 



AND 

HOW WE CROSSEDTHEM 

BEING A NARRATIVE OF 

TWO YEARS' RESIDENCE IN THE EASTERN HIMALAYA 
AND TWO MONTHS' TOUR INTO THE INTERIOR 



-»5 




A LADY PIONEER 



ILLUSTRATED BY HERSELF 

NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD, AND COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



7r 



TO 



MY MOTHER 

STIjcsc images 



THE SUBSTANCE OF LETTERS SENT HOME TO HER DURING ALMOST 
THE ONLY TIME WE WERE EVER SEPARATED 



^re affcttionattig |nstribeh 



PREFACE. 



The following pages were written principally in India, 
and sent home at short intervals for the exclusive perusal 
of a family circle. They make no pretension to a 
scientific character, the little band of travellers who ven- 
tured with me into the interior of the Eastern Himalaya 
having done so, not for the purpose of scientific research, 
but simply to explore an almost unknown country, and 
to enjoy the incidents of travel. Neither do they pre- 
tend to give any adequate conception of the magnificence 
of the scenery of that vast mountain region, for in truth 
its beauty and grandeur are alike beyond all power of 
description. 

For the defects of this volume I may perhaps be 



PRE FA CE. 



allowed to plead the difficulties of a task which can never 
be more than imperfectly achieved ; while, in asking an 
indulgent judgment of the drawings from which the chro- 
molithographs and woodcuts have been executed, I may 
mention that they were painted, in almost every instance, 
with frozen fingers, the smaller sketches being often 
scratched hastily on letter paper, as I sat sometimes 
on a portmanteau and sometimes on a tent-peg. In 
lajang them, before the public I have yielded to 
the earnest solicitation of my friends. If the perusal 
of these pages should prove a source of gratification 
to others, who, by following on paper my footsteps 
over untrodden paths, may be able in ever so faint a 
degree to realise something of the glory and sublimity 
of that highly favoured land, I shall not regret that 
I overcame the diffidence I felt in giving publication to 
the book. 

In indicating our route into the ' interior' by a red 
line on the map, I have given the general bearings 
only of our journey. Had we taken ' observations ' 
at the end of each day's march, our route would have 
presented a zig-zag appearance, as the configuration of 
the mountains we had to cross sometimes obliged us to 



travel in a north-westerly and sometimes in a north- 
easterly direction. As no such 'observations' were 
taken, I have indicated the route in the simplest manner 
possible — viz. by a comparatively straight line. In com- 
puting the distance of our tour by the scale on the map, 
I may also mention that the elevations and depressions 
necessarily incident to mountain-travelling should be 
taken into consideration, none of which could be 
indicated on the flat surface of a map. 

Clevedon : December i6, 1875. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER 

I . . . INTRODUCTORY .... 

II . . . AWAY TO THE HIGHLANDS ! . . . 

III ... ' THE GOVERNMENT BULLOCK TRAIN ' 

IV . . . WE REACH OUR FIRST STAGING BUNGALOW, AND PAR 

TAKE OF 'SUDDEN DEATH' 

V ... WE MAKE OUR TRIUMPHAL ENTRY INTO PUNKAHBAREE 

VI . . . DARJEELING AT LAST .... 

VII .. . WE PURSUE ART UNDER DIFFICULTIES 

VIII . . . THE CANTONMENT . . . 

IX ... I MAKE A STARTLING PROPOSITION 

X . . . THE HAPPY VALLEY . . • . 

XI ... ' FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS ' . . . 

XII .. . NOONTIDE IN THE TROPICS 

XIII . . . WE CHANGE OUR QUARTERS . 

XIV . . . WE CROSS OVER INTO BHOOTAN, AND TAKE A LITTLE 
HEALTHFUL EXERCISE .... 

XV... THE FLESH-POTS OF BHOOTAN 

XVI ... A MIDNIGHT CONCERT .... 

XVII . . . AWAY TO THE SNOWS ! . . . . 



PACK 

I 

lO 

20 

26 

31 
46 

51 
61 

79 

88 

106 

116 

128 

143 
156 
163 
179 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER PAGE 

XVIII ... UNDER CANVAS . . . . • • 193 

XIX . . . THE RIMMAM ...... 202 

XX... THE LAST SWEET THING IN BOOTS . . . 2IO 

XXI,,. A GLIMPSE OF THE 'CELESTIAL CITY ' . . 217 

XXII . . . THE BENGALEE BABOO . . ' • • 233 

XXIII ... WE ENCAMP IN A PINE FOREST . . . 244 

XXIV... PINES . . . . • • • 255 

XXV ...' VOYAGES IN THE AIR ' .... 264 

XXVI... A MOONLIGHT ADVENTURE . . . . 272 

XXVII . . . THE BETHEL ON THE MOUNTAIN-TOP . . 282 
XXVIII . . . WE FIND TENT-LIFE PARTICULARLY CHARMING IN WET 

WEATHER . . . . . .289 

XXIX . . . FACES IN THE ROCKS . . . . • 302 

XXX... MOUNT SINGALEELAH, 12,336 FEET . . . 312 

XXXI... THE SOUBAH OF MONGMOO . ' . . . 326 

XXXII . . . CONJUGAL DIFFERENCES .... 333 

XXXIII . , . ' MRS. SYNTAX IN SEARCH OF THE PICTURESQUE ' . 34O 

. XXXIV ... DEODUNGA ...... 356 

XXXV... WE CONSUME OUR BREAKFAST, TOGETHER WITH OUR 

OWN SMOKE . . , . . 373 

XXXVI... HOW WE DINE AT 14,000 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF 

THE SEA ...... 383 

XXXVII . . . THE LAND OF ICE . . . • . 39^ 

XXXVIII ... WE GET INTO DIFFICULTIES .... 405 

XXXIX . . . LOST IN THE ABODE OF SNOW . . . . 419 

XL... WE MISS ONE OF OUR PEOPLE . . . 429 
XLI...OUR GUIDE DECAMPS . . • • • 437 
XLII...WE TAKE OUR BEARINGS AND FIND THE GUIDE MIS- 
LED US ...... 448 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER 

XLIII . . 

XLIV. . 

XL^" . . 

XLVI . . 

XLVII . . 

XLVIII . . 

XLIX . . 

L. . 

LI. . 

LII. . 

LIII. . 

LIV. . 

LV. . 



LVI. 
LVII . , 
LVIII . 



WE TAKE STOCK OF OUR REMAINING PROVISIONS 
. RENEWED DISAPPOINTMENT . . . . 

. THE DRIPPING FOREST .... 

. KABJEE 

.THE SODBAH INTRODUCES US TO HIS SMALL FAMILY 
.WE ENCAMP ON THE BANKS OF THE KULLAIT 

THE KAJEE OF YANTING .... 
. THE MONKS OF PEMIONCHI . 

SERVICE AT THE BUDDHIST TEMPLE 

• C 'S LITTLE DURBAR 

. THE OLD lama's BLESSING 
, THE SEPOYS KEEP THEIR EYE UPON ME 
.WE OVERTAKE THE TIFFIN COOLIE, AND GRILL 
WHILST OUR MOORGHEE IS UNDERGOING THE 
SAME PROCESS 

. THE MOUNTAIN STORM .... 

THE RISHEE 
, REGRET 



PAGE 

454 
461 

471 
483 

492 
500 

508 

520 

528 
541 

554 
562 



571 
580 

592 
601 



LIST 



THE COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS. 



c.>3)4c 



JUNNOO, FROM BELOW SOUBAHGOOM 

THE BHOOTIA BUSTI (VILLAGE), DARJEELING 

KINCHINJUNGA AND PUNDEEM, BY MOONLIGHT 
THE PLAINS OF NEPAUL, FROM MOUNT TONGLOO 

DEODUNGA (MOUNT EVEREST). SUNRISE . 

OUR CAMP ASCENDING THE SNOW-FIELDS 

WE ENCAMP IN A SNOW-STORM 

THE DESOLATE HEIGHTS OF SINGALEELAH 

NURSYNG, FROM THE SINGALEELAH RANGE 

NURSYNG AND PUNDEEM, FROM SOUBAHGOOM 



Fi'ontispiecc 

To face page 58 

168 
228 

358 
414 

444 
502 
520 
552 



MAP OF SIKKIM 



Errata. 

Page 91, headline, for THE BHOOTIA BUSH read THE BHOOTIA BUSTI 
,, 103, line 4, for direct hatred, read dire hatred 






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i 



if 
''•iij 



,# 




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IS 



THE INDIAN ALPS 



AND 



HOW WE CROSSED THEM 



CHAPTER I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 



There is a spot of earth, supremely blest, 

A dearer sweeter spot than all the rest. — Montgomery. 



O SCARLET poppies in the rich ripe corn ! O sunny 
uplands striped with golden sheaves ! O darkling 
heather on the distant hills, stretching away, away to 
the far-off sea, where little boats with white sails, 
vague and indistinct in the misty horizon, lie floating 
dreamily ! 

How exquisitely the soft neutral grey of the sea 
contrasts with that bit of bright sandy beach, and the 
crimson clover with the canary colour of the sunlit 
meadows ! One's sense of harmony is never ruffled 
or disturbed by the colours on earth's broad palette. 
The sky, flecked with fleecy clouds, is soft and blue. 

B 



^i 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



Lights and shadows, ever shifting, play athwart the 
quivering fern-brake, just showing the first warm tinge 
of autumnal splendour. All nature inanimate is im- 
mersed in the semi-slumber of noontide Now and 
then a buttercup nods its head as though it were 
napping, and on a harebell stalk a butterfly poises itself, 
with a gentle see-saw motion, as if rocking itself to sleep. 
Nothing seems really awake but the bees, still buzzing 
about the wild flowers ; but even they are gathering 
no honey, as far as I can see, and are only pretending 
to be busy. The very rooks have ceased to whirl 
round those old elms yonder, and, congregated on the 
church tower, which seems to keep guard over the quiet 
dead in the churchyard beneath, are far too drowsy to 
enter into animated conversation. Occasionally an argu- 
mentative bird sustains a prolonged caw, but finding no 
one in the humour to contradict him, he soon subsides 
into the general stillness. 

But see ! the upland there to westward, bathed in a 
flood of ambient light an instant ago. Is immersed in 
sombre shade, as a cloud floats lazily between It and the 
sun ; and, hidden before, now bursts into view, as if by 
magic, a thatched cottage, the one salient point of the 
whole landscape. Within the doorway the movements 
of the cotter's wife may be seen, at some occupation, and 
a little picture of rural contentment and quietude has been 
created In a moment. She comes out, and a charming 
woman she proves to be — charming, that is to say. In an 



INTROD UCTOR V. 



artistic sense — somethino- orange about her neck, and 
wearing a madder-coloured gown, whilst a small red-and- 
white child toddles after her. She has evidently come 
out to feed the pigs, by the clamour they make at her 
approach, and there is no need to ask the hour, or note 
that the sun is at its meridian ; for, entering by the 
wicket, comes the goodman home for his mid-day meal, 
and from the steeple, surmounted by its weathercock, 
which gently swings from side to side, the clock strikes 
twelve, its cracked bell the one bit of discord the ear 
needed to make the harmony complete. 

Why at this Instant does the bright blue ribbon 
round the neck of my little Skye terrier sitting beside 
me look out of ' keeping' ? Why does his sharp 
civilised yap-yap grate on my ear, as he gazes beseech- 
ingly in my face for a token of permission to be off to 
worry the pigs ? Why would a female rustic in ragged 
attire, sitting on a sunny bank, be more in harmony with 
nature than one wearing the ' last sweet thing ' in hats, 
its feather just at the particular pose of the year eighteen 
hundred and seventy — no matter what ? Is there no 
affinity between Mother Nature and the wearers of 
purple and fine linen ? Must we be sons and daughters 
of the soil to render us one kin ? There is poetry in 
that ragged time-worn thatch, with its tufts of weed and 
moss growing out of every available cranny ; there is 
poetry in the cotter's wife and her little red-and-white 
child ; there is poetry even in those squeaking and 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



excited pigs, quarrelling greedily over their 'wash.' 
Then why not In me and my Skye ? In what consists 
the picturesque ? 

Such questions as these I used to ask in the golden 
days of childhood, and on one occasion received a severe 
snubbing from my governess, who, shaking her head 
ominously, predicted I should grow up to be a visionary 
creature not fit for this world, bidding me the rather be 
practical and get on with my geography. For in those 
days of my non-age nature was ever a delight to me, 
and I could draw a landscape pretty accurately, the trees 
it may be too much like Dutch toys, and the perspective 
somewhat startling ; for has not one of those brilliant 
productions been preserved by loving hands through all 
the vicissitude of the chequered past, wherein I am 
represented in conventional pinafore standing at a 
window listening to the warbling of a sentimental bull- 
finch as big as myself? But the 'three r's ' were an 
abomination unto me, and geography the very bane of 
my existence. How little I thought then — ah me ! how 
little any of us think in that Paradise of childhood, when 
our future lives are to be ' so happy,' where the paths 
are to be hedged with thornless roses and the flowers 
to be all ' everlastings,' none to be gathered by the 
reaper Death — how little I thought, I repeat, in those 
days whilst she endeavoured to impress upon my un- 
listening ear the position of the Himalayan mountains, 
that in after years I should climb their heights and be 



INTRODUCTORY. 



able, as now, to recall to mind visions of fairer scenes 
and fairer skies than even that on which my eye is 
resting, and behold such grand things in God's beauteous 
earth, of which man in his philosophy never dreamt. 

But are there scenes more fair than those in our own 
dear land ? Well, perhaps not fairer, for nature is 
sweet in her homely English garb. I love these scented 
meadows in the glorious summer time ; I love these 
rounded hills and sloping pasture-lands, telling of cen- 
turies of peace and plenty ; but there are scenes which to 
look upon make man humbler, and, I think, the better ; 
and even as I sit here quietly drinking in all this placid, 
tranquil beauty, I am seized with a spirit of unrest, and 
long to be far away and once more in their midst. Would 
you see Nature in all her savage grandeur ? Then 
follow me to her wildest solitudes — the home of the yak, 
and the wild deer, the land of the citron, and the orange, 
the arctic lichen, and the pine — where, in deep Alpine 
valley, rivers cradled in gigantic precipices, and fed by 
icy peaks, either thunder over tempest-shattered rock, 
or sleep to the music of their own lullaby — even to 
the far East, amongst the Indian Alps. 

Kennst Du das Land wo die Citronen bliihn, 
Im dunkeln Laub die gold Orangen gliihn, 
Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel welit, 
Die Myrte still, und hoch der Lorbeer steht, 
Kennst Du es wohl? 

Dahin ! Dahin ! 
Mocht ich mit Dir, O main Geliebter, ziehn. 

Goethe. 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



It has been said that nothing can be more grand and 
majestic than the Alps of Switzerland, and that size is a 
phantom of the brain, an optical illusion, grandeur con- 
sisting rather in form than size. As a rule it may be so ; 
but they are ' minute philosophers ' who sometimes argue 
thus. Not that I would disparage the Swiss Alps, 
which were my first loves, and which, it must be ac- 
knowleged, do possess more of pichiresqtte beauty than 
the greater, vaster mountains of the East ; but the 
stupendous Himalaya — in their great loneliness and 
vast magnificence, impossible alike to pen and pencil 
adequately to pourtray, their height, and depth, and 
length, and breadth of snow appealing to the emotions — 
impress one as nothing else can, and seem to expand 
one's very soul. 

We were sitting at dinner one evening beneath a 
punkah in one of the cities of the plains of India, feeling 
languid and flabby and miserable, the thermometer 
standing at anything you like to mention, when the 

' khansamah ' (butler) presented F with a letter, the 

envelope of which bore the words, ' On Her Majesty's 
Service;' and on opening it he found himself under 
orders for two years' service at Darjeeling, one of the 
lovely settlements in the Himalaya, the 'Abode of 
Snow ' — Him, in Sanscrit, signifying ' Snow,' and alaya 
* Abode ' — the Imatis of the ancients. 

Were the ' Powers that be ' ever so transcendently 
gracious } Imagine, if you can, what such an announce- 



INTRODUCTORY. 



ment conveyed to our minds. Emancipation from the 
depleting influences of heat almost unbearable, for the 
bracing and life-giving breezes which blow over regions 
of eternal ice and snow. 

But even in these days it is wonderful to what an 
extent ignorance prevails about the more unfrequented 
parts of India ; for it is not generally known, except as a 
mere abstract truth, that in this vast continent — asso- 
ciated as it is in the purely English mind with scorching 
heat and arid plains, stretching from horizon to horizon, 
relieved by naught save belts of palm -girt jungle, the 
habitat of the elephant, the tiger, and the deadly snake 
— every variety of climate may be found, from the sultry 
heat and miasma of the tropical valley, to the tempera- 
ture of the Poles. 

Is not India, indeed, almost exclusively regarded as 
a land of songless birds arrayed in brightest plumage ; of 
gorgeous butterflies and 'atlas' moths; of cacao-nuts, and 
dates, and pines more luscious than anything of which 
the classic Pomona could boast ? — a land also where 
snakes sit corkscrew-like at the foot of one's bed, and 
wild beasts take shelter in one's ' bungalow ' ; and where 
her Majesty's liege subjects, whose fate it is to be exiled 
there, are exposed to the alternate processes of roasting 
under a tropical sun, and melting beneath a punkah ? 

To the feminine mind, again, is it not a land of 
Cashmere shawls — ' such loves ' — and fans, and sandal- 
wood boxes, and diaphanous muslins ? — presents sent 



over at too Infrequent intervals from uncles and cousins, 
about whom, vegetating in that far-off land, there is 
always a halo of pleasant mystery, and arriving, redolent 
of ' cuscus ' and spicy odours and a whole bouquet of 
Indian fragrance, which wafts one away in spirit across 
the desert and the sunlit ocean to that wonderland in an 
instant. 

A region there is, however, of countless bright oases 
in these vast plains, where the cuckoo's plaintive note 
recalls sweet memories of our island home, and mingles 
with the soft melody of other birds ; where the stately 
oak — monarch of our English woods — spreading its 
branches, blends them with those of the chestnut, the 
walnut, and the birch ; where in mossy slopes the ' nod- 
ding violet blows,' and wild strawberries deck the green 
bank's side, like rubies set in emerald. I allude of course 
to the noble snow-capped Himalaya, the loftiest moun- 
tains in the world, with whose existence everyone is ac- 
quaintv;d, but about which brains even saturated with 
geographical knowledge are yet as ignorant, so far as 
their topographical aspect and wondrous hidden beauty 
are concerned, as they are about the mountains in the 
moon. 

Along this chain, at elevations where the tempe- 
rature is similar to that of England, numerous sana- 
taria lie nestling, enfolded in their mighty undulations, 
and dwarfed by the vastness of the surrounding peaks 
into little toy-like settlements. These are convalescent 



dep6ts for our British soldiers, and refuges for Indian 
society generally ; for all who are able migrate from 
the plains to these cool regions during the fierce heat 
of summer, to reinvigorate themselves in the delicious 
climate. 

The most beautiful of all these sanataria, as far as 
scenery is concerned, though by no means the largest, 
is Darjeeling, or the 'Holy Spot' — the Sceptre of the 
Priesthood — -as its name signifies in the Thibetan lan- 
guage ; and to this fair Eden — oh, joy ! — we are to proceed 
without delay. 




THE INDIAN AIPS. 



CHAPTER II. 



AWAY TO THE HIGHLANDS 



And so it came to pass one stifling evening, the sun 
setting a disc of fire, that two figures might be seen, not 
descending a hill on ' white palfries,' but stepping into 
a prosaic 'dinghy,' to be ferried across the Hooghly, 
a branch of the Ganges — a muddy river truly, but 
all a-glow now with the sun's crimson dye, which has 
kindled the dome of Government House and the many 
cupolas and spires of the fair City of Palaces almost into 
a blaze. 

Away down the river noble ships ride at anchor, 
waiting for the morrow's tide to bear them over its 
treacherous and .ever-shifting sandbanks to the distant 
sea. Looking towards the city, forests of Stately masts 
from every port under heaven tower skywards, and 
along the Strand a dense throng of carriages may be 
seen moving slowly, as the denizens of the proud me- 
tropolis, released from their closed houses — from which 
every particle of the outer atmosphere has been ex- 
cluded throughout the livelong day — take their ' Jiawcl 



khaiia^ which, literally translated, means ' eat the air.' 
From the beautiful ' Eden Gardens ' the sound of the 
band, borne on the sultry breeze, comes wafted towards 
us ; while at the many ' ghauts ' numerous figures are seen 
standing on the steps or in the sacred waters, salaaming 
to the Day-god as he sinks to rest. Bathing is a religious 
ceremony with these children of the East — a process 
said to wash away sin ; but, as a rule, they economise 
time by cleansing their linen and their consciences 
together, and may generally be seen alternately salaam- 
ing and scrubbing away at their 'chuddahs' as they 
stand waist-deep in the mystic flood. 

Noisily settling themselves to roost in the tall pepul 
trees that fringe its margin, are enormous bald-headed 
adjutants ; whilst others still linger about the steps, 
balancing themselves on one leg, their long pouches 
dangling in the air, as they gravely watch the proceed- 
ings of the bathers. Loathsome vultures flutter uneasily 
'neath the palm fronds, uttering every now and then a 
shrill moan, as though possessed with the unquiet spirit 
of the Hindoo which but a day or two ago tenanted 
the body they have just left, stranded somewhere down 
the river's banks. From the jungle a mile or two away 
comes the wild jackal's cry, answered by another herd 
more distant still, as they call each other to some unholy 
feast. The Mahomedans bury their dead, but there 
was a time, not so long ago either, when the bodies 
of the 'mild Hindoo,' except those of high caste, were 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



invariably thrown into the river ; but cremation of some 
sort is now, I beHeve, the custom amongst Hindoos, 
if not actually enforced by law, although frequent eva- 
sions of it still exist. 

In the days I speak of, the statement that the living 
were left on the banks to die or be washed away by the 
tide was no Eastern fable, for I have myself often seen 
the sick carried along on ' charpoys ' (bedsteads) in the 
direction of the sacred river, moving as they went. 

But let us quit such painful scenes. Already merrily 
gleam the thousand lamps which surround the white 
palaces of the King of Oude's zananas, like a necklace of 
diamonds, casting their reflection in the water. In little 
inlets — arms of the river — all amongst the dark trees, 
fires are burning, indicating the existence of boats moored 
there, in which swarthy boatmen are cooking their evening 
meal. Here and there a tiny light may be seen floating 
down the river ; and you may be sure, though you cannot 
see them in the gathering darkness, that rustic houris — 
whose beehive dwellings are hidden in the thick jungle — 
are standing or kneeling on the slimy brink, watching 
with eager prayerful eyes the fortunes of the little 
bark ; for these superstitious people seek therefrom the 
foreknowledge of events. If it float on out of sight 
still burning, well is it for the object of their wishes ; 
but should it go out — by no means unfrequently the 
case — the contrary is augured. These lights, floating 
star-like on the dark waters, and seen from the suburban 



AWAY TO THE HIGHLANDS f 13 

bridges at all hours of the night, are to my mind the 
one poetical feature of this eastern city. 

Ferried across to the measure of our boatmen's 
' barcarolle,' we reach the opposite shore just as the 
steam-ferry draws up to the pier ; and there is no time to 
lose, for the express is waiting its arrival. 

* Can't get in there, sir; that is reserved accommodation 
for ladies,' shouts the station-master from the other end of 

the platform, on F 's following me into the luxurious 

first-class carriage, fitted with berths for night travelling. 
As there happens to be no other lady passenger, however, 
he is permitted to remain ; and to prevent molestation at 
either of the subsequent stations, he at once lies down, 
and covering himself with shawls and other articles of 
feminine attire, hopes thus to elude detection. 

Leaving all signs of the great metropolis behind, we 
are soon whirling through rural Bengal : and what a 
deadly looking swamp it is ! Through rice fields, stretch- 
ing away into the distant horizon ; by morass, and fen, 
and sedgy pool, till the whole country seems under 
water ; by clumps of waving palm trees, standing out 
black against the afterglow like funereal plumes ; till 
evening at length gives place to night, and all colour 
fades save in the West, where a narrow blood-red streak, 
like the reflection from a hundred monster furnaces, still 
lingers in the heavens, and we reach Serampore. 

The official looks in, apparently regarding the lanky 
figure opposite me with some suspicion. He is no doubt 



1.4 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

up to these little subterfuges, but he passes by notwith- 
standing ; and I have just made up my mind that we are 
to be left undisturbed, when he returns, and this time 
stands upon the step and looks in. 

' Is that a lady opposite you ? ' he enquires. 

' A lady ? Well, no ; not exactly ! The fact is, it is 

my husband,' I am obliged to confess at last, as F , 

moving slightly, lets the shawl slip with which I had 
endeavoured to conceal him, thereby betraying an unmis- 
takably masculine boot. 

' Then you must come out of this carriage, sir.' 

* I can't,' replies F , with some degree of truth ; 

' my wife 's an invalid, and I cannot leave her.' 

' Can't help that, sir,' rejoins the uncompromising 
station-master. ' There 's a carriage here, where you 
can both travel together ' (holding the door of one of 
the general first-class carriages open). 

At this juncture, having heard the altercation, the 
guard appeared, and, master of the situation, addressing 

F with a significant look, said : ' Come into this 

carriage, sir ; ' and aside, ' I'll make it all right at the 
next station.' 

Upon which F retired for the present, soon to 

return in triumph for the remainder of the night, when 
he subsided into sound sleep till peep of day, by which 
time we reached Sahibgunge, and our railway journey 
was completed. 

Here we were told by an oleaginous native func- 



AWAY TO THE HIGHLANDS ! 15 

tionary, who gave us the information as though it were 
a matter of no consequence whatever — which nothing 
ever seems to be to these phlegmatic people — that all 
our baggage had been left behind, adding that a luggage 
train left an hour or two after the express, by which he 
thought it likely they might forward it, in which case 
we should get it in the course of the day. At this 

announcement F growled out something that I did 

not catch ; perhaps it was a benediction, perhaps it was 
not. At any rate, it was already too hot to think of 
getting into a' passion ; for, early as it was, the sun had 
sent upwards his avant-guard of crimson cloud, bearing, 
as on ensign armorial, all the blazonry of his pomp and 
splendour, and a curtain, like cloth of gold, suddenly 
spread itself over the Eastern sky, as it does only in these 
latitudes. 

Now this non-arrival of our effects would have 
obliged us to stay at Sahibgunge all the next day — one 
of the most execrable places in the Mofussil of India 
— had we not brought a trustworthy servant with us, 
the steamer by which we were to cross to Caragola 
leaving hours before the baggage-train would be due. 
But we are able to depart, fortunately, committing our 
belongings to his charge, and leaving him to wait their 
arrival, and follow with them the next day. 

The sacred river from this point looks like a broad 
lake, with low sand-banks here and there, like little flat 
islands, just peeping above the water. Reaching the 



i6 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



Steamer, we find that, being the only passengers, we are 
to have it all to ourselves ; and at ten o'clock, casting off 
her moorings, we are afloat for the first time upon the 
sacred Ganges. 

Sitting under the awning we watch the various 
boats float by : some like immense hay-stacks rowed 




by twenty men ; others with clumsy square sails, and 
thatched huts on their decks, containing merchandise 
from Nepaul ; whilst light little dinghies, with sails set 
to the wind, bob up and down as they get into the swell 
of the steamer, and seem to be curtseying to us as they 
pass. 

Then leaning over the steamer's side, In fancy I 
travel onwards far far away along the course of this 




mighty stream, even to its birthplace in eternal snow, 
whence, issuing beneath a low arch among the gla- 
ciers, it is first seen trickling over its narrow bed, worn 
deep in solid granite, at so great an elevation that the 
more ignorant of its worshippers believe it descends 
from paradise itself. Amongst a people of so lively an 
imagination and extravagant sentiment, endowing as they 
do so many things inanimate with form and life, it is 
no wonder that they should have idealised that which 
brings with it, as from the very heavens, not only fer- 
tilisation to these parching plains, but so many other 
blessings. Accordingly there is a whole world of 
fables believed in by Hindoos concerning this holiest 
of rivers, with which the most ancient of all classic lore 
is connected, and they worship it under the imagery of a 
goddess whom they call Gunga, the daughter of Himavat ; 
the sublime and lofty solitudes of the Himalaya, like 
Mount Olympus to the Greeks, being the very home 
and centre of their mythology. The Hindoos were 
in a high state of civilisation when Europe was still 
lying in deepest slumber ; for it must be remembered 
that Hindustan was the cradle of the arts and sciences, 
and these people — 'Niggers,' as I have often heard 
them contemptuously called — were in possession of both, 
when even the Greeks lay in obscurity, and the Britons, 
too oft their despisers, were — humiliating thought — 
barbarians ! 

When the sun gets vertical, the captain kindly places 

D 



his cabin at my disposal — the only one in the steamer — 
where, weary of my night's travelling, I remain till it 
begins to set behind the crimson horizon. And what a 
sunset ! turning the fleet of little boats moored along its 
banks — for we are gradually nearing Caragola — into 
jewelled caskets. Far out in the stream a boat is cross- 




ing the sunlight, looking black and weird, with a man 
sitting at its prow, who, for aught that he looked like, 
might have been Charon himself, ferrying the spirits of 
the departed over Styx. 

Dinner is provided on board, after which we again 
go on deck, and see the moon rise, a full round orb, 
bridging the river by a band of tremulous silver light. 
Southwards the bold outline of the Rajmahals is seen. 



AWAY TO THE HIGHLANDS ! 19 

quite respectable hills, which by courtesy one might 
almost call mountains, after living long in the plains. 
They cast a reflection deep and sombre on the broad 
expanse of water, in the shadow of which a ship is 
anchored — a mere toy it looks from this distance, its 
solitary light burning pale and cold. A flight of wild 
ducks skims past us, and over the still waters comes 
softly a boatman's song, ' La — ilia — ilia — la,' rising and 
falling in musical but pathetic cadence. 



CHAPTER III. 

* THE GOVERNMENT BULLOCK TRAIN.' 

And now, how can I describe the old-world style of 
locomotion, still existing in the nineteenth century, on the 
* Grand Trunk Road ' in this magnificent Dependency, 
' the brightest jewel,' &c. &c., for we have reached a 
shore where the shriek of the locomotive is never heard. 

Having left the steamer on our arrival at Caragola, 
and crawling up the steep incline knee-deep in sand, 
we find a ' hackery ' awaiting us, covered by a rough 
tilt — a sort of gipsy arrangement — to which are yoked 
two small bullocks ; the whole thing of a kind which 
you feel sure must have been in use in the time of the 
Pharaohs, the wheels of almost solid wood rolling round 
with a reluctance and squeak that is positively maddening. 
This goes, laughable as it may seem, by the dignified 
and euphonious appellation of the ' Government Bullock 
Train.' 

All is ready for departure, for they had seen the 
steamer, a little black speck in the horizon, two hours ago. 
We mount our chariot therefore and start at the magni- 
ficient pace of a mile and a half an hour. The rules are, 
I believe, that they shall not be required to go faster 



' THE G VERNMENT B ULL OCX TRAIN.' 21 

than three miles an hour ; but as they never by any 
chance arrive at this alarming speed, the prohibition is 
scarcely necessary. 

A lantern suspended from the tilt sways to and fro, 

the tassel of F 's smoking-cap, doing likewise, keeps 

time with it ; the body of the driver, sitting astride 
the pole to which the bullocks are attached, sways back- 
wards and forwards too, with the regularity of a piece of 
mechanism, as he pokes and pushes first this bullock and 
then that, varied only, alas ! by screwing their tails round 
and round in his endeavours to get them on. Besides 
this, the goad, a short stout stick, is often called into 
requisition, answering the double purpose of poking and 
striking, the latter accomplished in successive thuds on 
their poor lean backs, and accompanied by an amount 
of jabbering persuasion inconceivable to anyone who 
has not travelled under the Jehuship of an Asiatic, the 
former making one's very heart sick, and the latter be- 
yond everything annoying to the ear. But nothing makes 
the slightest impression upon them. By all these com- 
bined efforts they are simply kept in motion, and I 
soon grow stoical in the matter, and learn to believe 
that without them they would not move at all. 

After a while, however, just when we are sinking 
into a state of somnolence, induced by the monotony 
of the whole performance, we hear the stick administered 
with more than ordinary energy, and they do make an 
effort for once, and succeed in getting into a trot ; but it 



is only to take us clean off the road and land us upside- 
down in the * paddy ' (rice) field seven feet below. 

But this does not appear to excite the smallest sur- 
prise in our Jehu, who seems to take it all as a matter of 
course ; and after we have managed to scramble out— 
hardly knowing which is our head or which our heels, 
not hurt, but severely shaken — he gives them one depre- 
catory glance, and proceeds leisurely to unfasten the 
yoke. 

The bullocks, once loose, begin quietly grazing as if 
nothing had happened, whilst we sit down on the bank 
and bear it as philosophically as we can, till our tri- 
umphal car is righted and again put in motion, when, in 
process of time, we reach the first ' chokee ' (or stage), 
and have to change our noble beasts. 

This is a sleepy little village, surrounded by ' paddy ' 
fields, a light here and there glimmering feebly through 
the doors of the mud huts. The driver shouts, to arouse 
the amiable native who has to furnish us with the expected 
relay, 'Jaf-fa!' repeated several times, but no answer; 
' Ho ! Jaf-fa-a-a-a!' descending the gamut in an injured 
tone. At length a light is seen slowly approaching from a 
distant hut — they never hurry themselves, these Orientals, 
under the most pressing circumstances — and the bearer of 
it gives us the consoling information that there is no relay 
of bullocks, a ' bobbery (quarrelsome) sahib ' having taken 
those we were to have had for his own ' dak ' about 
an hour ago, his beasts having broken down by the way. 



'THE GOVERNMENT BULLOCK TRALN: 23 

At this declaration, the driver makes use of choice 
Hindustani expletives, and pronounces it to be a *jhut' 
(lie) ; but on his maintaining the assertion, what can we 
do but ' bless the bobbery sahib,' which I am afraid 

F does in language no less complimentary, and 

offer ' backsheesh ' to our informant if he will only obtain 
other bullocks speedily elsewhere. 

Stimulated by this magic word, he retires with 
more precipitation than is their wont, and we watch his 
light growing fainter and fainter as he crosses the paddy- 
field. No matter how bright may shine the moon, natives 
are never seen without carrying a lantern at night, 
which they say frightens away ' cobras,' a snake whose 
bite is death ; and presently we hear his voice growing 
more and more distant, as he calls his kine, straying in 
the jungle far away ; whilst we are compelled to wait 
two weary, dreary, miserable hours, before we can once 
more proceed on our way. 

This, then, is the 'Government Bullock Train' — 
what an imposing title ! — for which, together with the 

transit of our luggage by a similar conveyance, F , 

with becoming gravity, paid 75 rupees (7/. lOi^.) to the 
Post-office authorities a few days before starting, the 
name in itself being a guaiantee of its respectability, sug- 
gesting to the mind of the uninitiated, if it suggested 
anything in particular, a train freighted with bullocks ! 
At any rate the word train at once conveyed the idea of 
speed, and for this reason it has no doubt been ironically 



given; but we hope the Indian Government will be more 
sedate In its nomenclature for the future, and give up 
jesting, which is improper and undignified in the Great. 

In like fashion creeping along the road, the monotony 
relieved by similar incidents, the first faint streak of dawn 
appears, and in the cold grey half-light we overtake long 
lines of * hackeries ' of a more primitive kind than that 
even In which we are journeying, each wheel, as It re- 
volves, producing its own particular and peculiar squeak 
— for they never grease them, to do so would cause the 
drivers to lose their caste— -all looking as if they had 
come straight out of the land of Canaan, and were going 
down into Egypt to buy oil, and corn, and wine ; and, 
following in their wake, we fancy we must be going down 
into Egypt too, with our money in our sack's mouth. 

Past miles and miles of dusty pepul trees, growing on 
each side of the road, the soft blue distance seen through 
them, bathed in silvery mist, and there Is a dewy fresh- 
ness in the air. Past strings of pilgrims, walking wearily 
along to or from some shrine, probably Parisnath, a 
mountain of unusual sanctity across the Ganges, the 
centre of Jain worship. On, till we meet commissariat 
waggons, drawn by immense bullocks, beautiful creatures 
with large meek eyes like gazelles, soft dove-colour skins, 
and large humps on their backs, which, being hungry, we 
feel inclined to eat, there being nothing carnose half 
so delicious as these humps when salted. Past little 
villages, scarcely awake yet, and more hackeries, the poor 



'THE GOVERNMENT BULLOCK TRALN.' 



25 



beasts moving their heads from side to side, as they 
strive to make the hard yoke easier to their necks. Ah ! 
well, indeed, has Scripture used it as a symbol of a 
burden grievous to be borne. 

At length a great clatter is heard in the distance, and 
something is seen hovering above the road, bearing 
down upon us like an enormous vulture, which turns 
out to be nothing more or less than Her Majesty's mail, 
sending up clouds of dust, and hiding everything but the 
driver and an unhappy traveller clinging on by his eye- 
lids to the back seat. 




26 \ THE INDIAN A IPS. 



CHAPTER IV. 

WE REACH OUR FIRST STAGING BUNGALOW, AND PARTAKE 
OF ' SUDDEN DEATH.' 

It was broad day by the time we reached Purneah, and 
came to anchor in the httle ' bungalow ' which answers to 
a roadside inn. We caught sight of the kitmutgar> or 
table attendant, some little time ago, performing his 
simple toilet in the verandah, as he heard the familiar 
squeak of our chariot wheels, and knew that some 'sahib 
logue ' must be approaching. We have scarcely alighted 
when he presents himself, and with a low salaam begs 
to be informed what we wish for breakfast, which is 
followed by the very natural question from the 'sahib 
logue ' of ' What can you give us ? ' — the rejoinder, 
nine times out of ten in these places, where travellers 
are comparatively few and far between, being, ' Moor- 
ghee grill, sahib, aur chupattee (grilled fowl and chupat- 
tee) :' the former, a dish known in India, in the language 
of modern ethics, as ' sudden death,' from the fact of the 
unfortunate little feathered biped being captured, killed, 
skinned, grilled, and on the table in the space of twenty 
minutes ; and the latter an odious leathery, and indigestible 



OUR FIRST STAGING BUNGALOW. 27 



compound, apparently made of equal proportions of sand 
and flour, and eaten as a substitute for bread. 

Now follows the chase for the irrepressible ' moor- 
ghee,' which is always at hand, pecking and strutting about 
amongst its kind in the ' compound,' or inclosure of the 
bungalow ; sometimes making migratory raids and ex- 
plorations into the hackery in search of crumbs, or any 
other small delicacies that may happen to be found within 
it, till the bazvarchi (cook) is seen emerging from the cook- 
house across the yard, at the sight of whom, even before 
he is in pursuit, the whole brood are in violent commotion, 
their instinct — or ' hereditary experience,' handed down 
to them by a long line of suffering ancestors, likewise 
sacrificed to ' grill ' — warning them what is to come. 
The greater number, however, manage to elude the in- 
evitable for a while, by making their escape ; but one or 
two of nervous temperament get too frightened to follow 
the rest in their flight, and, losing their heads entirely, 
make a dash into the bungalow itself, then under the table, 
and, hunted down for a few. minutes longer, are usually run 
to earth at last beneath one's ver}/ chair. Then succeeds 
the poor little captive's last speech and confession, whilst 
the kitmutgar is hastily laying the cloth, and one can 
hear it frizzling over the fire in a twinkling. Should the 
traveller require a second or third course, as he generally 
does, moorghee cutlets or moorghee currie await him ; 
and other victims have to be sacrificed, accompanied by 
the usual preliminaries. 



2 8 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



Here, however, we find ourselves in clover, and in 
the lap of luxury itself, for Purneah being a station of 
some importance, it possesses a bazaar, and the kitmutgar 
informs us that, in addition to ' moorghee grill,' we can 
have ' mutton chop grid-iron-fry,' whatever that may be — 
a dish hitherto unknown to us in our experience of the 
'deep mysteries of the Indian cuisine. 

These staging bungalows usually contain four rooms, 
each opening pleasantly upon a verandah; the furniture, 
however, is of the most wretched description, consisting 
merely of a table, a punkah, and a few uncomfortable 
chairs, in which, after your long journey, you sit ill at ease, 
wishing you possessed the buckram vertebra; of your 
ancestors, whilst the matting covering the floors is too 
frequently in holes. Musing as you sit bolt upright, you 
will probably be attracted by the least possible noise, and, 
on looking in the direction of the sound, may see a pair 
of antennae or tiny legs, with a small head peeping above 
the matting where it skirts the walls. It may be that of 
a centipede or little black scorpion, or, if the time be 
evening, a fleshy-brown cockroach. They are as a rule, 
however, very clean, being under the superintendence of 
the Public Works Department — not the cockroaches, but 
the bungalows — and are unquestionably a great conveni- 
ence to travellers up the country. 

Weary of our long night in the ' Government Bullock 
Train ' — I wish with all my heart the members of the 
' Supreme Government ' were obliged to travel in it for 



OUR FIRST STAGING BUNGAIOW. 29 

fitteen consecutive hours ! — we hire a ' palkee gharee ' to 
take us on to the next station, Sileegoree, deciding to 
halt where we are during the day, and to proceed on our 
journey in the cool of the evening. Accordingly at 6 p.m. 
an oblong deadly-looking machine, resembling a hearse, 
makes its appearance, drawn by two horses, the pace 
whereof is guaranteed to be ten miles an hour, when once 
they have been persuaded to make a start ! 

To our inexpressible relief our servant arrived some 
hours ago, bringing with him our long-lost luggage, 
and whilst it is being packed on the top, the horses 
are taken out, something being amiss with the harness. 
One of them is a sturdy little animal, the other a tall 
bony creature, with a neck like a giraffe, of the genus 
Bucephalus Alexandrhiics, with a great deal of 'spirit' 
in him, judging from his proud exterior, and the way he 
carries his head ; but we soon find, alas ! that this 
quality resides in his outward bearing only. During the 
process of harnessing, which proceeds with no small 
difficulty, requested by the coachman to take our places, 
we get in, and lie down side by side at full length, that 
being the appropriate mode of conveyance. 

Six men seize the wheels, crack goes the whip, 
' Whr-r-r-r-r ! ' shouts the coachman, simultaneously ; 
Bucephalus assumes a war-like attitude, raises his head 
haughtily, and paws the air. The smaller animal pulls 
conscientiously, but still we do not move. The coach- 
man performs a feat, not only of arms but legs, throwing 



30 



THE INDIAN AIFS. 



both over his head in utter desperation. Another crack 
of the whip, and Bucephalus this time backs deter- 
minedly, threatening to overturn us into a dirty pond 
hard by. 

Chorus of men still at the wheels, ' La- la-hi-hi-iddl- 
iddl-iddl-whish-sh-sh ! ' The last syllable prolonged 
and hissed through the teeth. Truly the mouths of 
these Bengalees seem made especially for the utterance 
of infinitesimal monosyllables. But they prevail at last, 
and we are en route. The coachman, or chief under- 
taker, seizing his bugle, plays a pathetic, ' Too-too-too,' 
and we go on now at an ever-increasing pace, whilst the 
vehicle sways from side to side ominously, and we 
realise in an instant the meaning of the hearse, and feel 
we are being borne along to a speedy and untimely 
grave, and so on, and so on, till — as Mr. Pecksniff 
remarked to his charming daughters, on their way to 
London — ' It is to-morrow, and we are there.' 




OUR ENTRY INTO PUNKAHBAREE. 



31 



CHAPTER V. 



WE MAKE OUR TRIUMPHAL ENTRY INTO PUNKAHBAREE. 

But although it is ' to morrow,' for it is long past mid- 
night, and we are ' there,' that does not mean Darjeeling, 
but Kishengunge ; and a dismal and ugly place it truly is 
at this time of night. 

Kishengunge, through which the road passes, is a 
thickly populated village, noted at one time for dacoits ; 
and even now it not unfrequently happens that travellers, 
on their way to or from the Hills, are molested by these 
daring highway robbers. Not very long ago a British 

officer journeying to was beset by a band of them, 

and robbed of every stitch of luggage he possessed. 
Now it happened that, according to the custom of Indian 
travellers on these long night journeys, 
he had disencumbered himself of all 
superfluous attire, and donning his 
dressing-gown and night-cap, under a 
happy consciousness of absolute se- 
curity, he laid him down comfortably, 
as he thought, till morning. But 
behold the gallant officer as he 
appeared on arrival at his destination ! 




32 



THE INDIAN AIFS. 



Moral : when travelling' by dak gharee in India, be 
not over-confident, but go to sleep in complete armour, 
ready for any emergency. 

Shortly after the commencement of his Indian career, 

whilst travelling in Eastern Bengal, F observed, 

hanging to a tree, a singu- 
lar thing in the form of a 
cross, made of iron hoops, 
apparently rusty from ex- 
treme age and desuetude. 
On enquiry, he learnt that 
it was no less than a man- 
cage, an interesting relic 
of the past. As far as 
he could ascertain from 
local tradition, dacoits were 
formerly placed in it when 
captured, and left suspended to a tree by the roadside 
as a warning to others ; but whether they were hung up 
alive and left to die a lingering death, or after they had 
been deprived of life, he could gain no satisfactory infor- 
mation : the former, however, is by far the most natural 
hypothesis. 

We have now to descend a steep bank to a ' nullah,' 
or river, sixteen men, awakened by the sounds of the 
coachman's bugle, being in readiness to assist us, which 
they do by holding on to ropes attached to the gharee, to 
prevent its being precipitated too rapidly down the 




incline ; and well is it that we cross the river under cover 
of darkness, and do not see our ferry — a frail platform of 
bamboo, placed upon two canoes. But safely arrived on 
the other side, the same number of men push us up the 
bank, uttering a chorus of the most unearthly yells, 
and in process of time we reach the dak bungalow at 
Siligoree. 

Siligoree lies within a short distance of the foot of 
the Hills, and close to the malarious Terai — a belt of 
jungle, where some years ago Lady Canning, the wife of 
the Governor-General of India at that time, the ' Lily 
Queen ' as she was often appropriately called, caught 
jungle fever from staying here one night only, on her way 
from Darjeeling, and soon afterwards died at Calcutta, 

From this place we have our first glimpse of the 
snowy range, one or two of the loftiest peaks just peep- 
ing over intervening mountains, as if to show us some- 
thing of the glory that lies beyond, and the view looking 
across the broad Mahanuddee — a shallow river, but clear 
as crystal — is very imposing with the dark belt of jungle 
at its base. We do not linger here, however, for the 
Terai is the abode of leopards, tigers, the wild elephant, 
rhinoceros, boa-constrictors, and other objectionable rep- 
tiles and fauna ; and for every reason is it unsafe to pass 
through it — a distance of eight or nine miles — after 
sunset. 

The road, broad and level, is enclosed by dense cover 
on either side. To the right, to the left, before and 



behind us, nothing is seen but dense and impenetrable 
jungle. And this is by no means an agreeable part of our 
journey ; for although the creatures I have mentioned 
are not given to display themselves to the nervous tra- 
veller between the hours of sunrise and sunset, yet the 
mere knowledge of their existence kept us perpetually on 
the alert, each movement of a branch suggesting a tiger, 
every rustle in the tall dry grass, a serpent. 

Terrible tales are related of the manner in which 
natives have been attacked when passing through it at 
night, which they sometimes do in companies. And 
there was nothing to prevent their attacking us, had 
they been so minded, in broad daylight : but there would 
have been no one to describe the tragic scene, for 
not a wayfarer did we meet the whole distance. We 
passed, however, a skeleton of more than one cow, telling 
its own tale of midnight orgie. 

Having reached Gareedura, a small village on the 
other side of the Terai, we found, to our disappointment, 
that the ponies we expected to be waiting to take us 
on to Punkahbaree, although ordered several days ago, 

had not been sent. Unwilling to delay our journey, F 

decided on walking, and after much difficulty succeeded 
in obtaining from one of the villagers an uncovered 
hackery for myself and the baggage. In the next page 
will be seen the interesting picture I make, jolting along 
the road, restrained in my longings to wrest from the 
driver's hand the goad with which he keeps poking first 



OUR ENTRY INTO PUNKAHBAREE. 



35 



this poor beast, and then that, and retahating upon him 
with good measure for his cruelty, only by the consoling 
reflection that probably they had likewise been bullock- 
drivers in some previous existence, and that their turn 
had come at last. 




Although the ascent to Punkahbaree is gradual, the 
character of the flora changes at almost each step. We 
have already lost sight of palms — those melancholy trees 
so distinctive of the plains — and passing by a large 
tea plantation, we make our triumphal entry into the 
little station, where there is an exceedingly nice staging 
bungalow, in which we put up for the night, starting 
the next morning for Kursiong, our last resting-place 
before reaching Darjeeling. 



36 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

We have now exchanged the vegetation of the tropics 
for noble forest trees, which clothe the mountains that 
surround us in confused masses on all sides, and which 
constitute what are called the Outer, or Sub-Himalaya. 
Looking back whence we came, we see stretched below us 
a vast and almost limitless Steppe, the plains of Bengal ; 
and the eye wanders over billows of blue mountain, each 
lessening in height as it nears them, till the last is seen 
to merge into the vast ocean-like expanse, that ceases 
only at the horizon. 

The syces (grooms) in charge of our ponies having 
arrived during the small hours, we leave Punkahbaree 
the following morning, whilst the dew still lingers on the 
sward, and begin zigzagging up the steep path, between 
banks covered with ferns and lycopodia, shaded by 
gigantic trees draped with a soft net-work of leguininosiE, 
in flower, which in many instances cover their trunks 
completely, and hang from each branch in long fila- 
ments like ships' cables. Orchids cling to the moist bark 
with slender thread, their succulent leaves and wax-like 
blossoms contrasting sweetly with the vivid green of the 
moss, which often forms their bed. White and purple 
thunbergia cover many of the less lofty trees, the wild 
banana, and the spider-shaped leaves — eight feet broad 
in many instances — of xh^ paiidanus palm, whose glorious 
plumed head waves gently to and fro in the morning 
breeze ; and having ascended two thousand feet since 
leaving Punkahbaree, we meet with oaks, birch, and 



OUR ENTRY INTO PUNKAHBAREE. 37 

Other trees, which recall to memory one's native land, 
and the change of climate as we proceed becomes very 
perceptible. 

A ride of six miles brings us to Kursiong, our first in- 
trociuction to which is a dismal and dilapidated little grave- 
yard, situated close to the roadside, with no fence what- 
ever surrounding it, the dusty, forsaken-looking mounds 
being hardly recognisable amongst rank weeds and grass.^ 
There is always something very sad, in approaching the 
haunts of men, to have the truth forced upon one's mind, 
that wherever the living congregate, there must also be 
a place set apart for the dead ; and although a common 
truth enough, it is yet one to which somehow we never 
grow quite accustomed. But this neglected little place 
impressed me with unusual sadness, containing as it 
does the graves of those who have died in exile in this 
strange though beauteous land, on which no loving eye 
has probably ever gazed, or tender hand has strewn a 
flower. 

A gentleman at Kursiong, not personally known to 
us, but merely a friend's friend, having heard of our 
coming, sent a messenger to Punkahbaree to await our 
arrival with a letter, containing, with true Indian hospi- 
tality, an invitation to spend a few days at his house en 
route ; an invitation it would have been almost un- 
gracious to refuse, even had not inclination prompted our 

1 It was not until a year later that the pretty little church now standing 
was built, and the cemetery consecrated, planted, and enclosed. 



38 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

availing ourselves of it, which it did in this instance, 
for we were both truly rejoiced at the prospect of a little 
rest. The house is a charming one, and, unlike those we 
have hitherto seen in the hills, built very much in the 
English style. It stands on the extreme summit of a 
conical mountain, backed by mountains higher than itself, 
covered with rhododendron and magnolia-trees, and 
commanding deep blue valleys on either side ; but 
although we are now at a considerable elevation, we are 
as yet scarcely on the threshold of the wondrous Hima- 
laya, and see little more of the snowy peaks than we did 
at Siligoree. Nor have we quite lost sight of the plains, 
basking in the sunshine 6000 feet below. How parched 
and arid they look, even from this distance ! and how 
thankful we feel to have left them behind, as we breathe 
health and vigour with each inspiration. How our 
lungs expand and our nostrils dilate, whilst breathing 
these exhilirating and life-giving breezes ! which enable 
us to realise the more fully all we suffer in the lowlands 
of Bengal. 

Here we are initiated not only into the new delights 
of a blazing wood fire, but also Into the far-famed 
hospitality of a planter's household, than which nothing 
can be more perfect and well-bred ; perfect, not only 
because It is real and hearty, but because no gene is 
imposed upon the guest, who Is regarded In every respect 
as one of the family circle, there being no such thing as 
restraint or 'doing company' on either side. Accord- 



IV£ RIDE THROUGH A TEA PLANTATION. 39 

ingly, on arrival we were at once shown into the suite 
of rooms appropriated to our use, a native servant soon 
following with a message from his master, enquiring 
whether, as we were doubtless fatigued by our long ride, 
we would not prefer taking breakfast alone in our own 
apartment. 

In the afternoon our host proposed a ranter to a tea 
plantation some miles distant, a proposition to which we 
very readily responded ; and leaving the house at four 
o'clock, we were soon traversing a bridle path through 
the very heart of a primeval forest, our Bhootia ponies, 
accustomed to the roughness of the path, alternately 
trotting and cantering, their speed alone hindered by 
fallen trees, which occasionally lay across it; whilst we 
ourselves were often obliged to bend to our saddle-bows 
to avoid being decapitated by low-hanging branches, or 
entangled by the air-roots, that festoon the trees in long 
garlands, sometimes reaching to the ground. 

After an hour's quick ride, we come suddenly upon 
the estate ; and here the glorious forest trees have been 
cut down to make way for the cultivation of the tea 
bush, the mountain slopes laid black and bare in all 
directions. 

A tea plantation is eminently unpicturesque, and 
only interestmg, I should imagine, to the eye of a 
planter. From a distance it presents the unromantic 
appearance of an exaggerated cabbage garden — acres 
and acres of stunted green bushes, planted in rows, with 



40 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



nothing to relieve the monotony of form or colour. The 
leaf is highly glazed, and not altogether unlike the laurel 
in shape, though much smaller ; whilst the flower, which 
has a sweet perfume, is precisely like that of the large 
kind of myrtle, at least to a non-botanical observer. 
In passing through the estate we saw it in all stages 




of its growth, from the fragile seedling, struggling into 
existence through the hard dry soil, to the full-grown 
shrub. 

Women and children — who appear to us wonderfully 
fair after the natives of the plains — are employed in 
plucking the leaf, which they throw into long upright 
baskets, the men beinq- reserved for the more laborious 



PV£ RIDE THROUGH A TEA PLANTATION. 41 



operations of hoeing, planting, etc. We pass groups of 
patient women thus busily occupied, whilst wee babies, 
from ten clays old and upwards, in shallow baskets made 
to fit them, lie speckled about the ground ; placed by 
maternal solicitude beneath the scanty shadow of the 
tea bushes, each lobking like a little Moses, minus the 
bulrushes, by the bye. Miriams, however, are not want- 
ing, nor Pharaoh's daughters either, to complete the re- 
semblance. 

The costume of these women is very Hebraic in 
style, often reminding one of the paintings of Scripture 
subjects by the old masters. Not unfrequently they 
shield the head with a white or red cloth, folded square, 
the end hanging down the back after the manner of the 
Neapolitan women, or else turban-like wound round the 
head. Their dress is composed of the brightest colours, 
the three primaries often being seen in combination ; 
somewhat questionable now, however, by reason of un- 
toward vicissitude of wear and tear, but all the better for 
artistic purposes, yielding a gradation of mellow ' half- 
tints,' over which Carl Haag would go perfectly mad with 
delight. 

In the middle of the plantation we come to a long 
low range of buildings, where the green leaves are rolled, 
dried, sorted, and finally packed in square chests ready 
to be sent to Calcutta for exportation. When the leaves 
are first plucked, they are thrown into large trays made of 
thin strips of bamboo, and placed some hours to fade in 

G 



42 



THE INDIAN AIFS. 



the sun, after which they are more completely withered 
by being warmed over a charcoal fire ; and are then 
spread out upon tables, beaten, squeezed, and crushed 
by the palms of the hands, till the leaves are rendered 
thoroughly moist by the exuding of the sap, when they 
are again placed in the sun, before being subjected to 
the first roasting process. For this purpose they are 

thrown into large pans, 
and tossed about till suf- 
ficiently dried ; when they 
are once more rolled by 
the hands, again roasted 
in shallow trays, till per- 
fectly crisp and dry, and 
the tea is considered ready 
for the market. 

In the manufacture of 
the ' cup that cheers ' there 
certainly is no lack of ma- 
nuai labour, and I think, 
as a tea-lover, I half re- 
gretted having witness(id 
the process, for it is one of those many cases in which 
ignorance is bliss. 

Then on again by group after group of tea-gatherers, 
the children looking still more like little Moses, now that 
we have descended to the region of the ^^.Nin^ pampas 
grass, and they are laid beneath its shade. 





Having ridden over fifty acres of plantation, we have 
now reached its Hmits, and find ourselves surrounded 
by wild raspberry bushes laden with ripe fruit, the 
flavour of which is much fuller and richer than that of 
our English raspberry, and, being slightly acid, is not a 
little refreshing after the heat of the tea-house, which was 
almost unbearable. But how our faces and hands were 
scratched, and my riding habit torn by encounter with 
its treacherous brambles ! 

To vary our ride we re-ascended the mountain by 
quite another way, entering the forest in an easterly 
direction. Shadows were lengthening by this time, but 
the birds were singing still ; amongst them the thrush, and 
above all others — the blessed little thing ! — here for the 

first time in India we heard the cuckoo ; upon which F 

and I simultaneously reined in our ponies to listen to it. 
What a surprise it was, that home note in the solitude 
of this great Indian forest ! whilst the plaintive vespers 
of the little creature, making me feel how many thousand 
miles we were away from our loved ones in England, 
caused the very inmost chord of my heart to vibrate, and 
brought a choking sensation in my throat, which I found 
hard to get rid of with undimmed eyes. What glorious 
orchids, too, we saw that day, and what exquisite pendu- 
lous lycopodia ! and how many sweet-scented wax-like 
flowers of the magnolia we gathered and stuck into our 
ponies' bridles to carry home ! 

At the time of which I write, there was no church at 



44 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

Kursiong, and the spiritual interests of the planters and 
residents generally, of the little station, were left almost 
uncared for ; the military chaplain of Darjeeling occa- 
sionally holding Divine Service there, on his way to 
Jelpigoree — a place he is obliged, amongst his other duties, 
to visit every few months. 

The following day, however, being one of the 
exceptional Sundays, morning service was to be held in 
a ' rest house,' as it is called — simply an empty building 
with four walls roughly roofed in, and used for the 
soldiers to sleep in on the march to or from Darjeeling 
— whilst a resident having magnanimously offered to 
lend a harmonium for the occasion, I was asked to 
improvise and conduct the choir. 

I had had considerable experience of the manner in 
which musical instruments get out of order in India, not 
only by the ordinary effects of climate, but also by 
the ravages of white ants, which not unfrequently take 
up their abode within them, blocking up the whole 
machinery by building little walls of primitive masonry, 
sometimes in a single night ; but the prudent measure of 
testing the capabilities of this one in particular, before 
doing so in public, unhappily did not occur to me. 
Accordingly, when I began the usual voluntary, the 
clergyman's advent was ushered in first by a screech, 
then by a howl, followed by a deep groan, after which 
I gave it up in despair ; but the gentleman, whose 
precious, possession it was, rising to the occasion, at 



SUNDAY AT KURSIONG. 45 

once came forward, and performing some niysteries 
with the pedals, declared in a decorous whisper, that it 
would * go all right now.' On the faith of which en- 
couraging assurance, in due time I began playing a chant 
for the Venite ; but the assurance proved a delusion, 
for the poor thing was so hopelessly gone in the wind, 
and was so asthmatical — it was evidently a chronic 
disorder — and it sent forth every now and then such 
groans and gasps and piteous sighs, that I once more 
relinquished it, and took to pitching the chants and 
hymns in a tremulous soprano. The daughters of our 
host, however, having good voices, quickly took up the 
strain, and the congregation, who had not had Divine 
Service for months, or music at one for a longer period 
still, and who were apparently easily satisfied, declared 
the singing was charming, and the whole thing a success ! 
To our minds, at any rate, accustomed to the exciting 
as well as deeply impressive Military Service of the 
plains — the ' Parade Service,' as it is called — there was 
something wonderfully quaint, unconventional, but in- 
teresting withal, in the utter simplicity of this one. The 
homely little building in the midst of the mountains, the 
people gathering together from such great distances — 
in some cases wending their way over ten miles of rough 
pathway — and their devout demeanour, somehow carried 
one back to the days of the Covenanters, and possessed 
an impressiveness all its own. 



46 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER VI. 

DARJEELING AT LAST. 

It was a lovely dewy morn, that on which we started for 
our destination twenty miles distant, our kind host having 
sent a relay of ponies the previous day to await our 
arrival at Sonadah, rather more than half way. The 
road from Kursiong to Darjeeling is a very broad one, 
skirting the mountains, and winding round their stupen- 
dous flanks, very much like the famous Cornice road 
made by Napoleon I., connecting Nice with Genoa, 
only on a much grander scale. What azure depths and 
dark green sombre forests, stretching up, up to the stain- 
less blue ! How nobly the broad road winds, and how 
exciting it is to canter side by side as we breast the wind, 
which comes borne over icy regions, now not so far away ! 
We had not gone more than two or three miles, 
when we observed, on turning an angle of the road, 
two men driving a herd of buffalo, large bony animals, 
stalking leisurely along, their skinny necks outstretched, 
and square nostrils snuffing the air, as the manner of 
them is, whether indigenous to mountain or plain. As 
we rode up, however, instead of their passing us and 



DARJEELING AT LAST. 47 

proceeding on their way, as we naturally expected they 
would do, for some reason or other they took fright at 
our formidable appearance, and wheeling straight round, 
took to their heels and galloped off as hard as they 
could go ; whilst the cries of the herdsmen, and their en- 
deavours to keep pace with them and turn them back, 
served but as a signal for our ponies to start off too ; 
and away we went giving involuntary chase, soon leaving 
the men far behind, who kept shouting to us in beseech- 
ing accents to stop, and not drive their kine away they 
knew not whither, their voices growing fainter and fainter 
each moment, as increasing distance separated us. 

From the first, I had lost all control over my fiery 
little steed, and it was as much as I could well do to keep 

in my saddle ; whilst F having his own by no means 

well in hand, it would have been quite impossible to rein 
them in at this part of the road, which was almost level 
ground. At length, coming to a little path diverging 
from the roadway, the buffalo took advantage of it, and 
fled from their pursuers down the mountain side ; with the 
exception of one big fellow, who, slightly in advance of 
the rest, overshot the mark and could not turn in time 
to follow. Infuriated at finding itself deserted by its 
companions, it dashed on a few paces, and then turned 
round and faced us boldly, ten yards ahead. Then, 

as F brandished his whip and shouted loudly, it 

dashed off once more, but only to return to the charge 
again and again ; and it was ' On, Stanley, on ! charge. 



Chester, charge ! ' for more than a mile, when coming to 
another mountain path, it also happily left us, and was 
soon lost sight of amongst the thick brushwood below. 

Long before we had time to recover our composure 
after the little episode just narrated, we were overtaken 
by one of those dense fogs, of which we had ample 
experience during our residence in Darjeeling, and w^hich 
rendered fast riding out of the question. Nor was it easy 
at all times, even when riding slowly, to steer clear of 
the hackeries, and the long strings of ponies we met, 
scarcely more than four feet high, laden with sacks and 
protruding packs of the gipsy order, all of which had an 
uncomfortable way of rubbing against us as they passed. 

Having, as we imagined, ridden about twelve miles, 
and accomplished nearly two-thirds of our entire journey, 

F accosted the driver of a hackery, and enquired 

how far it was to Darjeeling. 

' Sdi kos (fourteen miles),' was the reply ; a kos being 
equal to two English miles. 

Proceeding onwards yet another hour, we saw an 

old pilgrim plodding along the road, to whom F 

repeated the question. After gazing intently at the top 
of his staff for some moments, upon which he was 
leaning, as though he expected to find the answer written 
there, he slowly counted on his fingers, like one making 
an abstruse calculation, and muttered in Hindustani, 
' Well, there was Sonadah, and that was tni kos (six 
miles), and then there was " the Saddle," and that was 



DARJEELING AT LAST. 49 



char kos (eight miles) ; and then there was Darjeeling, 
and that was ck kos (two miles), and that made at kos 
(sixteen miles) altogether.' 

' What ! ' exclaimed F , lifting up his voice, ' have 

we then been going backwards the last hour, misled by 
the fog ? Or are we condemned to journey on perpetu- 
ally, like the Wandering Jew, never to come any nearer 
to the goal ? ' 

' Ilogd, sahib, hoga!, rejoined the old man, encourag- 
ingly, reading an expression of disappointment in our 
faces, and making use of that provoking idiom, so peculiar 
to Hindustani, which forms the vague and indirect 
answer to nine out of every ten questions you may ask 
a native, embracing as it does the past, present, and 
future tenses, as well as the conditional and potential. 

For instance, if you ask a servant, • Is So-and-So 
coming to day ? ' he will reply, ' Hoga, sahib,' meaning 
viay be. ' Did he come yesterday ? ' he will still reply, 
* Hogd, sahib' signifying he might have come ; and so on. 
On this occasion, therefore, hogd was intended to convey 
the consoling assurance, that although Darjeeling was 
at kos distant yet, and a long way off, still, if we perse- 
vered, it zvould be, i.e. we should arrive there at last. 

And so we did ; at any rate, people told us we 
were there : a crowd of hackeries to steer through, 
and fowls and pigs and children to be ridden over, and 
visions of huts frowning down upon us on either side of 
the road, all exaggerated in the darkling mist, and a 

H 



50 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

mysterious voice proceeding from the shadowy outline of 
a native, telHng us he was our * bearer,' who had arrived 
before us with the luggage, and was waiting to conduct 
us to the house that had been secured for us. 

■X- -x- -x- -x- -x- -x- 

Standing under the porch of our pretty mountain 
dwelling the morning after our arrival, what a sight 
presented itself to our view ! ' See Darjeeling and 
die ! ' has become a familiar aphorism now ; and well it 
may, for how can I ever hope to be able to describe 
the awful beauty of the snowy range from this spot ! 
Grander than the Andes and the Red Indian's moun- 
tains of the setting sun ; grander than the Apennines 
and Alps of Switzerland, because almost twice their 
height ; grander than anything I had ever seen or dreamt 
of — for what must it be, think you, to fix your gaze upon 
a mountain more than 28,000 feet high, rising 21,000 feet 
above the level of the observer, and upon which eleven 
thousand feet of perpetual snow^ are resting, rearing its 
mighty crest into the very heavens ! Overcome as I am 
by its grandeur and majesty, I will not attempt a descrip- 
tion of it now, for language fails me, but leave it to 
develope itself as I proceed in my narrative, and the eye 
once grown familiar to the scene, emotion grows fainter, 
and forms itself into speech. 

1 The line of perpetual congelation in the Western Himalaya is about 
17,000 feet above sea level, so that ii,ooo feet of snow are lying upon Kin- 
chinjunga even in the summer months ; and in the winter it descends, of 
course, considerably lower still. 



DARJEELING. 51 



CHAPTER VII. 

WE PURSUE ART UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 

This sweet little cantonment, the sanitarium for Bengal, 
became British territory in 1835, together with a small 
tract of adjacent hill, ceded by the Rajah of Sikkim to 
enable our Government to create a convalescent depot 
for its troops; in return for which favour it agreed to 
give 300/. per annum as compensation, the Rajah's 'deed 
of grant' expressing that he made this cession out of 
friendship to the British Government ; little thinking, in 
his amiable simplicity, that Darjeeling would ultimately 
become the key to Sikkim, Nepaul, and Bhootan, or he 
would doubtless have been less generously disposed. 

Its native population numbers upwards of 20,000, 
consisting of various tribes, Bhootias, Lepchas, Limboos, 
and Goorkhas; the three former having originally mi- 
grated from some province in Thibet. They are, for 
the most part, an inoffensive and peace-loving people, 
particularly the Lepchas, a nomad race, natives of Sik- 
kim, who possess many virtues and none of the vices of 
the more highly civilised dwellers of the plains, the 
Mahomedans and Hindoos. 



52 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

The dress of these mountaineers is exceedingly pictu- 
resque, varying with each tribe as greatly as their lan- 
guage. In a climate like that of the Himalayas they are, 
of course, fully clad, the material being composed of some 
warm woollen fabric, woven by themselves in small tri- 
angular looms, after a very primitive manner. The 
Bhootias wear a long loose robe of some brilliant colour ; 
brilliant, that is to say, until subdued by the mellowing 
influences of time, and its concomitant. This is confined 
at the waist by a long narrow scarf or girdle, the front of 
the robe above the waist forming a natural pocket, or 
' opossum-like pouch,' in which they keep, when travel- 
ling, their little worldly all. I have seen one Bhootia 
produce from his pouch a canine mother and several 
puppies for sale, and another any number of cats ! whilst 
from their belt hangs a very formidable knife, fully half 
a yard long, enclosed in a leathern scabbard, often highly 
chased with silver. A powerful, square-built, and very 
manly tribe, armed with these knives, they appear not a 
little hostile, some experience of their harmless habits 
being necessary, before one can feel altogether at ease in 
living amongst them. They are, however, on the other 
hand, a very wily and cunning people, with much of the 
Chinese nature about them ; and when one of old eave 
utterance to that memorable and not very complimentary 
statement regarding the truthfulness of mankind, he 
most assuredly made no exception in their favour. 

Very different in each respect are the gentle Lepchas, 



who arc truthful and honest to a singular degree, those 
who have had transactions with them declaring that 
seldom if ever have they known them commit a theft or 
tell a lie. Their complexion is fair and ruddj^, but of 
that yellowish tinge observable in all the Mongolian 
races, and, like the Chinese, they are oblique-eyed and 
flat-faced, giving one the idea that they must have been 
accidentally sat upon when they were babies, and that 
they have never got the better of it since. 

These peculiarities, however, are more common 
amongst the Lepchas of Darjeeling, for in the ' interior ' 
of Sikkim, as I afterwards found, when we made a tour to 
the region of perpetual snow, they frequently possess great 
regularity and even beauty of feature. These people are 
intelligent, and great entomologists, scarcely an insect or 
tiny earth-worm existing for which they have not a name : 
but although they have a written language, they have no 
recorded history of themselves. They are much smaller 
of stature than the Bhootias, and effeminate looking, 
partly from the fact of possessing neither beard nor 
moustache, which they destroy by persistent plucking. 
They also part the hair down the middle of the head, 
plaiting it into a tail reaching below the waist. Rightly 
have they been designated the ' free, happy, laughing, 
and playful no-caste Lepcha, the children of the moun- 
tains, social and joyous in disposition.' They are, how- 
ever, an indolent race, taking life easily, and when not 
basking in the sunshine when there is any, or huddling 



54 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



inside their huts with the pigs when there is none, their 
favourite occupation is butterfly catching, with which they 
contrive to earn a tolerable subsistence, almost every 
visitor to Darjeeling, scientific or otherwise, making a 
collection of Lepidoptera, for which the neighbourhood 
is justly celebrated. 

The costume of this tribe consists of a long striped 
scarf or toga, fringed at each end, with which they drape 
themselves in an exceedingly graceful manner, allowing 
one end to fall loosely over the shoulder. A bow, a 
quiver of poisoned arrows, and a butterfly-net complete 
their equipment, not forgetting the knife, or 'ban,' sus- 
pended from a red girdle, a long straight weapon en- 
closed in a wooden sheath, quite different in shape from 
those used by other tribes, called 'kookries,' which are 
short and curved. 

The dress of the women of each race is almost alike : 

a short petticoat, striped 
with green, red, blue, and 
orange, tight bodice, with 
chemisette and sleeves of 
white calico, or a long white 
robe open down the front, 
and worn over all. Those 
of the better classes adorn 
■v-^"^^ themselves with gold and 
silver filigree ornaments, in 
which real agates and turquoises, procured from Thibet, 




Till'] CUSTOMS AND COSTUMES. 55 

are sometimes set; whilst a tiara of black velvet, orna- 
mented with large coral or turquoise beads, encircles the 
head. They also wear amulets, or charm-boxes, con- 
taining" prayers and relics of departed Lamas, such as 
nail- pairings, &c. ; and happy and thrice blessed is that 
fair one supposed to be — her fortune, in fact, made for 
life — who possesses that most precious of all relics, a 
departed Lama's tooth. 

The Lepchas, though an indolent race themselves, 
do not allow their wives to enjoy the same privilege, 
but constitute them their domestic drudges, agricultural 
labourers, and beasts of burden also. They do not 
marry young, like the natives of the plains ; and when 
they do marry often have to pay heavily for their 
wives, a Lepcha father frequently making a small fortune 
out of the sale of his daughters; some few, on the other 
hand, being sold for the modest sum of one rupee (two 
shillings). Occasionally the marriage is permitted to 
take place before the money has been paid; but in that 
case the husband becomes, like Jacob, the bondsman of 
his wife's father, and the wife never leaves her father's 
house, until the stipulated sum has been either worked 
out or paid in full. 

The planters exempt their coolies from work on 
Sundays, a circumstance the latter take advantage of, by 
going to the market, or * bazaar,' as it is called, to make 
their weekly purchases. This is situated in a large open 
space, where the vendors of woollen cloths made in 



50 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



Bhootan, silks woven from the fibre of a worm that feeds 
on the castor-oil plant, grain, vegetables, and other pro- 
duce, all squatted on the ground, display their wares. It 
is consequently always at its fullest on Sundays, when the 
people, clad in every conceivable colour and costume, 
flock to it in crowds, and, collected together, form 
a very interesting and picturesque scene. On one side 
of the bazaar is a Mahomedan mosque, surmounted 

with its white cupola, where the 
devout sons of the Prophet, who 
have migrated hither from the 
plains, are wont to resort at their 
hours of prayer. Above this is 
the convent, and beyond all, 
bathed in sapphire, stretches a 
wondrous expanse of mountain, 
half filling the sky. 

It is one of the prettiest sights 
possible to see the picturesque 
mountaineers wend their way upwards from the planta- 
tions on their way to market, dressed in all their Sunday 
best, their hair often adorned with flowers. The ears 
of the Lepchas and Limboos have large holes in them, 
from the perpetual dragging of heavy silver earrings ; 
and these they not unfrequently fill with flowers, some- 
times those of the large pink magnolia, sometimes the 
scarlet blossoms of the cotton-tree : the women carry 
their children on their backs in baskets ; and there 




PICTURESQUE SURROUNDINGS. 57 

never were people, I really think, in all the world, half so 
merry, and free, and light-hearted as these. 

Not only are the people themselves picturesque, 
but all their surroundings, which add not a little to the 
beauty of the landscape, with which they harmonise 
marvellously. Their brown huts dot the mountain slopes, 
the blue smoke curling through the thatch in graceful 
wreaths, whilst groups of bright-robed figures, sitting or 
standing about the doorways, form a kaleidoscope of 
perpetually moving colour. Although by no means in- 
digent as a rule, they love to live and burrow, in tattered 
huts, surrounded by every kind of squalor, where they 
and their numerous progeny — the goats, the sheep, the 
poultry, and the pigs — exist in almost one common apart- 
ment, and lie down together a happy and contented 
family party. A pig to these hill tribes is not the loath- 
some, unholy, and unclean quadruped it is in the estima- 
tion of the Mahomedan and Hindoo, but their much 
respected brother, with whom in life they love to frater- 
nise, and in due time, when slain, to eat. 

Their abodes form perfect studies for a painter ; but 
perhaps they never look so entirely picturesque as at 
nightfall, just when, the sun having set far beneath the 
horizon, the mountains, cerulean blue, are veiled in a 
dreamy haze. At such times these huts, perched on the 
ledges of the hill-sides, in all their rich deep colouring 
and ragged outline, a bright fire burning within the open 
doorway, form pictures indeed. 



58 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

At one period of my Darjeeling career, I haunted the 
Bhootia village, or BusH, as it is called in the language of 
the hills, which is situated about half a mile from the station; 
and I may say, in strictest confidence, that I became almost 
part of it myself, till the very pigs began to recognise and 
greet me, with a contented sort of grunt, as I sketched 
the dearest, raggedest, dirtiest of tumble-down tenements, 
getting to know the dwellers, and their little black-eyed 
flat-faced children. At first I and my easel were re- 
garded with the utmost suspicion — I must have the gift 
of the evil eye, they thought. For what other purpose 
could I desire to set down their ragged homesteads on 
paper, and carry them away with me, if it were not to 
weave some spell to harm them ? My first appearance 
therefore amongst these happy simple folk ushered in a 
reign of terror ; but as time wore on, and neither their 
children nor cattle died, neither did their huts topple 
over the precipice, they began to look upon me as 
an inevitable, — a grievance to be borne. Then would 
they come running up to meet me, as I appeared, a tiny 
speck on the ridge of the mountains, beneath which 
their village is situated, fix my easel for me, go to fetch 
water, sometimes even insisting on holding my colour- 
box, which was doubtless provoking, as were their com- 
ments upon my proceedings and presence generally ; but I 
had no heart to repulse them. Sketching, surrounded 
by a crowd, even though it be an admiring one, is 
anything but agreeable, as all know who have tried it. 



and whispers are perplexing, even though they may be 
compHmentary. 

* Ah ! ' one would say, the spokesman of the party, 
' the mem sahib is writiitg the fence ' — they always called 
it 'writing' — 'and look ! now the hole in the thatch.' 

And as I dabbed in the colour, another would whisper, 
' There ! she's writing my old mocassins, which are 
hanging up to dry ' — the representation of any of their 
personal belongings always appearing to afford them more 
than ordinary amusement. Then as I threw in another 
little dab of colour, and they recognised the pigeon, 
perched on the gable of the hut I was sketching — birds 
they hold sacred — or any other object of their especial 
interest, a subdued chorus of ' Ah — a — a — a — a ! ' would 
follow from the whole admiring crowd. 

But they never really annoyed me except when, in 
anticipation of my arrival at their village, they attempted 
to tidy up the outside of their dwellings. Sometimes, 
whilst I was in the very act of sketching one of their huts, 
they could be seen all hurry and bustle, scrimmaging here 
and there with switches and impromptu brooms, sweeping 
away the delicious rubbish heaps — the accumulation of 
years — upon which I had set my artistic affections. Once 
in an incautious moment I happened to tell them I in- 
tended some day or other to make a picture of their village 
all in one. Their delight knew no bounds; and one 
morning soon after, whilst sitting at breakfast, I was told 
that several Lepchas and Bhootias were waiting without 



6o 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



to see me, where I found a deputation, headed by a stately 
old Bhootia woman, who begged to inform me ' the village 
was quite ready, would I come to-day to write it down.' 

Suspecting some treachery or other, but willing 
to gratify them, I did start, armed with easel and 
sandwiches for a long day of it ; but what was my 
horror, on reaching the brow of the hill, to find the village 
tidied up in earnest, and decked out as for a gala day. 
Some of the huts were covered with little streamers, and 
fresh green boughs tied to bamboo stakes ; wooden pali- 
sades had been mended, and their enclosures swept and 
garnished ; and, as if this had not been enough, they had 
actually whitewashed the outside of the little Bhuddist 
temple itself; the old dowager's hut had positively a new 
roof on, and she herself, decked out in all her finery, was 
standing at the door, vigorously twirling a ' mani ' ^ (pray- 
ing machine) without stopping for an instant, evidently 
imagining I could, amongst other wonders, even re- 
present * perpetual motion ' in my sketch. 




THE MILITARY CANTONMENT. 6i 



CHAPTER VIII. 



THE CANTONMENT. 



At a safe and respectable distance from all the interest- 
ing and picturesque squalor of the village, on the crest of 
the hill, at an elevation of seven thousand feet above the 
level of the sea, stand the houses of the English residents ; 
and above these, by several hundred feet again, in a 
singularly bleak and exposed position, on the narrow 
ridge of a mountain, the hospital and convalescent depot 
are situated : but how the authorities could have chosen 
such a spot for our invalids is incomprehensible, when 
the neighbourhood abounds with more sheltered sites, 
where a fine bracing air can be obtained at the same 
time. 

Here they are enveloped in swooping mists for nearly 
half the year, which bear down from the higher ridges, or 
ascend from the valleys on either side. Higher, still 
higher, in very cloudland itself, rises Senschul, the former 
site of the military depot, selected in days when even 
greater idiocy prevailed, as may readily be imagined 
when I say that this mountain, protecting Darjeeling from 
the south-east and encountering the first burst of wind 



and rain, is popularly called its ' friendly umbrella ! ' 
Long ranges of deserted, and now ruined; barracks may 
still be seen from Darjeeling, on rare occasions, when the 
clouds open and display them to the astonished gaze of 
anyone who may happen to be looking skyward. 

Near the station itself, the mountains are becoming 
more bare each year, as the forest is cut down for tea- 
planting; and those who would witness the glorious 
vegetation with which the steeps are covered, must leave 
Darjeeling behind, and canter through the woods with 
a loose rein, heedless of danger and narrow stony 
paths. 

The banks at and about Darjeeling are thickly 
studded with stag moss, and the little yellow calceolaria ; 
the latter very different, however, from the highly 
developed flower of the same name, so familiar to us in 
England. At some elevations also the sweet little forget- 
me-not is found, with its meek eye reflecting the blue of 
heaven, as well as that loveliest of all flowers, the lily of 
the valley ; and how delightful it is to think of this still 
being left to grow in England, as it came forth fresh from 
the hands of God, and that, although we have, alas ! double 
violets and double snowdrops, no wretch has hitherto had 
the hardihood and audacity to introduce to the world 
a double lily of the valley. I have gathered it growing 
wild on the Wyndcliff, South Wales ; on the steeps of 
the Rhine; on the mountains of the Himalaya; in the 
gardens of the rich and poor alike in my own dear land ; 



ALPINE FLOWERS. 63 

yet that lowly, pensive little flower, lowly, but queenly in 
its beauty, and noble in its unsullied purity and grace, is 
everywhere the same. 

Beneath Senschul are dense forests of scarlet and 
white rhododendron, as well as of the beautiful magnolia, 
and the woods here are one mass of gorgeous colour 
during the months of March and April, when they are 
blooming in all their glory. Rhododendrons attain to a 
great height at this elevation, and the flowers grow in 
immense clusters, the white species particularly — a noble 
tree forty or fifty feet high — the leaves of which are 
exceedingly thick and rigid, measuring scarcely less than 
a foot long. The most beautiful of all, however, is a 
species of rhododendron which grows epiphytically, after 
the manner of our mistletoe, and which, clinging to the 
branches of trees belonging to other species than its own, 
may be seen drooping with its weight of sweet-scented 
flowers, each white bell four or five inches long, and as 
many broad, suspended by a slender stem. 

At the time I write all are in full bloom, the large 
cup-like blossoms of the white magnolia speckling the 
woods, and looking from a distance like newly-fallen 
snow lodged in the branches. At a higher elevation 
the pink magnolia grows, with its exquisite fleshy petals ; 
and everywhere such ferns, just now radiant with their 
brieht new fronds ! Such orchids, ablaze with colour ! 
Such veils of hanging moss ! Such loveliness, living, 
breathing, palpitating around us, that it fills one's heart 



64 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

with a sweet but indefinable sadness to look upon. I 
wonder why things that are very beautiful should make 
one sad. Is it because they are so fleeting, so transient ? 
Does it not lie in the consciousness, deep hidden within 
ourselves, though unthought of at the moment, that ' all 
that's bright must fade,' and, ah me ! that even whilst we 
admire and love things, they are passing away— fading 
from our grasp ? Yet if we had them always, we might 
not prize and hold them dear, as now — who knows ? 

Truly earth is here decked in nature's most sump- 
tuous garment, and the fairest and noblest works of 
God are seen in perpetual alternation, constituting it an 
earthly paradise, and a world of wonder and aesthetic 
mystery, to those who have eyes to see, and grateful 
hearts to recognise, not only the wondrous beauty in all 
around, but the hand of the great Architect and Artist 
which has created such loveliness in form and colour. 
Looking upwards, the majestic Kinchin cleaves the very 
heavens, and brings them down to meet it, whilst in 
everything the Infinite is unveiHng itself to finite man, if 
he will but see it. 

Very beautiful is it to watch the clouds float beneath 
these transcendent and eternal hills, and to follow the 
shadows they cast upon their lustrous surface, sparkling 
and shimmering in the noontide sun ; yet still more beau- 
tiful to watch them at eventide, when at the ' sun's quiet 
hour of rest ' shadows lengthen, and the orb of day, sinking 
behind the rugged peaks, sends upwards a flood of golden 



CLOUDLAND. 65 

light, bathing them in hues of ameth)st and rose — then 
they are almost unearthly in their splendour. 

To my mind and wild imagination, however, a lover of 
the passionate in nature, the view from Darjeeling is 
never so entirely grand and magnificent as after a storm. 
How often from my mountain eyrie have I watched the 
clouds, and their marvellous and ever-changing effects, 
when a tempest, which has raged throughout the livelong 
night, has lulled and sobbed itself to rest, with the rising 
of the sun. Huge cumuli may then be seen hanging 
about the highest peaks, whilst the valleys and mountains 
of the Sub- Himalaya are covered by a vast horizontal 
stratum of vapour, heaving into wild billows mightier 
than Atlantic rollers, and stretching right away to the 
snows fifty miles distant; whilst here and there a bold 
head of some mountain, higher than the rest, stands out 
In solitary grandeur, like a rocky Island in the Indian 
Ocean, the cloud-drift blown against it half covering it 
as with foaming surge. 

At one period of the year we actually live In the 
clouds, and those who wish to study cloud effects should 
pay a visit to Darjeeling, for they are Indescribably grand ; 
and much as the place is disliked by some. In conse- 
quence of its frequent gloomy weather, I like it on this 
very account. There are few natures to whom perpetual 
sunshine is congenial, and best do I love the days, when 
clouds sailing over-head throw shadows dark and mys- 
terious over the landscape, enveloping all things in 

K 



66 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



alternate glow and gloom. What sudden bursts of sun- 
shine and gloomy blackenings ! affording a power and 
variety in nature's colouring, by force of contrast, that 
uninterrupted sunshine ne'er can give ; and when a rift 
in the cloud admits a shaft of light, now here, now 
there, the whole becomes a perpetual dissolving view, 
and distant objects are seldom seen alike. Now that 
mountain peak, which we had always regarded as a verti- 
cal wall, is seen to have a lower one beneath it, as a 
cloud passing between it and the upper one throws it 
out in strong relief; now a ray of sunshine shows that 
to be a glacier, which we had previously imagined to be 
the shadow of a projecting rock ; and so, there is no day 
when to me Darjeeling is not perfectly delightful ; ay, 
even days of densest fog are welcome sometimes, for how 
delicious now and then to be perfectly chez nous, when 
one can settle down comfortably, feeling sure of no inter- 
ruptions by the enemy from without ; for who would 
think of running the risk of breaking one's neck over 
the precipices that must inevitably be passed to reach 
one's dwelling ? And is there anyone who does not 
enjoy days of solitude and sweet home life, when one 
is completely alone ? At any rate, I do ; but then I am 
an 'anchoress,' they tell me, and so I love Darjeeling, not 
only on sunny days and cloudy days, but all days. 

Unfortunately, ordinary visitors to Darjeeling see it 
at its very worst ; the months when it is hottest in the 
plains, during which persons rush to the mountains, hap- 



CLOUDLAND. 67 



pening to be those of mist and rain here ; but in my 
great love for these mountains, and anxiety to make ex- 
cuse for their occasional sulky behaviour, it is consoling to 
remember that we once stayed at Chamonix three weeks, 
and never saw the summit of Mont Blanc throughout the 
whole period. It is not often, however, that the Hima- 
layas treat the visitor so discourteously, Kinchinjunga 
seldom hiding his stately head for more than two or 
three days together ; and when at length the veil of mist 
withdraws, and he is seen standing out sharp and well- 
defined against the liquid azure, in his spotless robe of 
newly-fallen snow, so glorious is the sight, that to look 
upon it but for one instant Is worth long and patient 
waiting. 

This stupendous mountain has been seen, when the 
sun is in a certain position in the heavens, to cast its 
shadow on the sky ; and on a clear day the snow can 
always be observed drifting like a little white cloud from 
west to east, which has given rise to the belief in many 
persons that there is a volcano on its summit, the so- 
called cloud being mistaken for smoke issuing from a 
crater. But no one who has ever seen a distant mountain 
in a state of eruption would think so for an instant. 

I was fortunate enough to see Etna, not only near, 
but from a distance, many times, in 1868, when, Vesuvius 
slumbering, Etna was burning on an unusually grand 
scale. From a distance of fifty or sixty miles its smoke 
appeared to ascend in rounded masses, in the form of 



cumuli ; so did that issuing from Stromboli, which I also 
once beheld in a state of eruption ; whilst the appearance 
I have referred to, proceeding from the summit of one of 
the peaks of Kinchinjunga, and seen from the same dis- 
tance, is more like that of dust blown by gusts of March 
wind, only, of course, perfectly white. 

There are some things that make a lasting impression 
on the memory, and I shall not easily forget my first 
acquaintance with Mount Etna. It was one calm mellow 
evening that vve gradually approached it. Away in the 
distance stretched the long dark-blue line at its base, the 
sky, scarlet where the sun had set, fading upwards into 
orange, then into 3^ellow, then into citron and faint pink, 
till it terminated in greyish-blue. Standing out boldly 
against this, like a huge cinder, was Etna, pouring out 
columns of black smoke, as from an immense chimney, 
whilst every now and then an occasional flame appeared, 
resembling a flash of lightning, showing that it was still 
in a state of eruption. 

Travelling towards it, we lost sight of It for a while 
behind nearer hills, and darkness had already set in, and 
Ursa Major appeared above the horizon by the time we 
arrived close under it. At this moment it was in repose, 
and the long red line of reflection hanging in the sky above 
the crater, and the smoke issuing from it, were the 
only indications of its existence. Soon, however, there 
was a sudden burst of light, and a column of fire 
shot upwards, carrying large pieces of lava with it. 



Then another ominous lull, followed by another flash, 
which came so suddenly that, even as we watched for its 
appearing, its great brilliancy made us start. It was 
altogether, though a magnificent, a very appalling spec- 
tacle, the darkness at one moment so great, at another 
the flame proceeding from the volcano illuminating the 
whole expanse of firmament, whilst the heavy, lowering, 
confused mass of smoke hung Immediately over the crater. 
This unusually brilliant display of Etna took place, as 
I have said, when Vesuvius and other volcanoes were 
slumbering; it consequently became the principal safety- 
valve of Europe, and It certainly made one realise, as 
nothing else could, the tremendous forces that are at work 
beneath the surface of this calm and peaceful earth of 
ours, each moment that we breathe. 

This has been a digression, but the remembrance of It 
suggested Itself, as I sat one day at my easel, sketching 
the western peaks, and watching this little white cloud 
drifting off the flanks of Kinchlnjunga, and losing itself 
In the depths of the azure dome. I had heard no sound 
of approaching footsteps, and was therefore not a little 
startled on hearing some one close behind me speaking 
In broken English : — 

* That big mountain thar Is Junnoo, mem sa,hib ; and 
him thar is Kubra.' 

Looking round, I saw a pretty Bhootia girl, spinning, 
apparently about nineteen, but probably younger — women 
generally looking older than they are, in all countries of 



70 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



the East, even amongst the Hills. She continued to talk 
the whole time I was sketching, and when I had finished, 
insisted on walking part of the way homiC with me, to carry 
my easel, &c., pattering along by the side of my pony 
with her little naked feet, every now and then snatching a 




^^ • '■' r^^ 



wisp of long grass from the banks, and giving it to him 
to eat. She told me her name was Lattoo, and that she 
had learnt English when living in a missionary's family, 
as a child ; and there I fancy she had learnt habits of 
cleanliness also, being very different in appearance from 
the Lepchas and Bhootias one sees at Darjeeling, more 
cleanly and refined, and in every respect superior to 
her class. Her features, too, were very regular, and 
almost European in their type ; and her figure, clothed 
in the picturesque costume of these mountaineers, was full 



of natural grace; and I was so struck with her from the 
first moment I met her, that it ended in my asking her to 
let me take her likeness. 

Accordingly, the next day she presented herself for 
the purpose decked in all her pomps and vanities ; and 
after this I often saw her on my solitary rambles, some- 
times driving her father's kine home, which she had led at 
sunrise to graze in higher pastures ; sometimes standing 
beside me as I sat sketching, prattling away in her pretty 
broken English, which always amused me greatly, or 
softly singing to herself some Tartar melody, holding the 
distaff in one hand, whilst she twirled the wool deftly 
between the finger and thumb of the other ; and with her 
red or white 'saree' folded square over her head, a style 
both Lepchas and Bhootias frequently adopt, what a sweet 
picture she made. 

The primitive spinning-wheel is yet an unknown 
wonder, and far too great a novelty in the art of manu- 
facture to have yet reached this mountain-land, and the 
web or thread is consequently made entirely by hand. 

From one of my favourite sketching-places I could 
just see the smoke wreathing upwards through the roof 
of Lattoo's hut, 4000 feet below ; and emboldened by 
familiarity, she one day asked me to come down and 
see it. Her father was a man of substance, and ac- 
counted rich amongst his people, owning swine and 
poultry, not to say a herd of buffalo, and several cows ; 
and a more picturesque little place than his dwelling could 



72 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

hardly be imagined. It was situated several miles away 
in the valley, or rather gorge, of the Rungnoo, for the val- 
leys in the eastern Himalaya are narrow and V-shaped ; 
and this one was more than ordinarily so, the river tearing 
along over its highly inclined and rocky bed, between 
almost perpendicular mountains, clothed with dense vege- 
tation, half shutting out the sky. A little to the right a 
waterfall could be seen chasing itself over moss-covered 
boulders down a narrow ravine, and then flowing into 
the river. 

The hut, which was entirely of wood, and ascended by 
a ladder, was erected on the declivity of the mountain, one 
side of it supported on stakes ; the roof, formed of bamboo, 
being thatched with the dried leaves of Indian-corn, from 
which baskets of various kinds were suspended. Outside 
the hut fishing-nets might generally be seen hanging out 
to dry, and a little below it, growing over a rough trellis- 
work of bamboo, the passion-flower trailed in the greatest 
luxuriance. One often meets with it in these valleys, 
particularly in that of the river Balasun, belov/ Kursiong. 
A few upright stakes of bamboo are stuck into the ground, 
and others tied horizontally to them to form a roof, 
similar to the way the vine is trained in the south of 
Italy, and it is then left to grow as it will ; the fruit, 
hanging in long yellow balls the size of an ^^%, being 
much esteemed by the natives ; and very delicious it is, 
for I have often eaten it. 

The first evening- I visited this little homestead the 



LATTOaS DWELLING. 



73 



cows and buffalo were all arranged for milking, and 
the scene was pastoral in the extreme. Inside the hut, 
too, they were making butter and "ghee," the latter 
made from buffalo milk; a disagreeable-looking substance, 
perfectly white, but much used in India for culinary 
purposes. The butter, however, looks and tastes much 
the same as our own, and is made by a very pri- 
mitive process, churns also being unknown amongst 




these people. The milk is first scalded and then laid 
in shallow pans, and allowed to remain until the cream 
is clotted, and slightly sour. It is then skimmed and 
placed in long bamboo tubes, often four or five inches 
wide, and three feet deep, called * chongas,' and these 
are shaken till their contents turn into butter, which is 
then taken to the bazaar for sale in large untempting- 
looking lumps, 

L 



Having once gone there, I returned so often, that my 
Httle pony, once started on the road, needed no guiding, 
but always turned sharply down the narrow pathway 
of itself, threatening to throw me sometimes, when my 
thoughts were far away, and I was bound for a more dis- 
tant ride. But his desire to go there arose from no 
sentimental attachment to the picturesque little spot, but 
rather, I suspect, from a remembrance of certain delicious 
feasts he was invariably indulged in, whilst I was gos- 
siping With Lattoo ; for when I rode down to see her, 
she not only pressed me to take milk, fruit, cakes made 
of dried curd, and such things as her simple life afforded, 
but extended her hospitality to my little white steed also, 
for which she lopped branches of the large bamboo. It 
is true he had plenty of bamboo leaves to eat in Darjeel- 
ing, but then they were of a smaller kind, and not half 
so luscious and succulent as those he met with there, at 
so much lower an elevation. Women are often as handy 
in the use of the ' ban ' as men, and Lattoo never looked 
so pretty, or her figure so entirely graceful and lithe, as 
when fighting with the long canes, often thirty feet in 
height, which, by waving first on this side and then on 
that, seemed like sentient things to be resisting her at- 
tempts to cut them, only that she might handle them the 
more. Indeed, was there ever a time when she did not 
look pretty ? my poor little Lattoo. 

Attracted by the interest she saw she had awakened 
in me, by degrees she was with me more and more ; and 



LATTOO. 75 

when I did not meet her on my sohtary rides, or go to 
see her at her home, she woidd find her way to mine, 
and could be often seen standing shyly outside the portico, 
but never empty-handed. Sometimes she brought fish, 
sometimes butterflies and beetles, for, like the rest of the 
world, she knew we were making a collection of them ; at 
other times, the ripe yellow fruit of the passion-flower, 
or some new wonder in orchids. At length, instead of 
shyly standing outside, she ventured within the myste- 
rious precincts of the mem sahibs ' ghiirl or dwelling, till 
she became quite domesticated in it, and my interest in 
her grew and grew till it ripened into something like 
affection. There was an irresistible fascination about 
this singular girl, and she somehow became a necessity 
to me — a part of the scenery, and of my happy mountain 
life. 

Sometimes, sitting on the margin of the river, I read 
to her, when, throwing herself at my feet, she would listen 
with rapt attention. She understood English sufficiently 
well to feel interested in what she heard ; but having been 
more accustomed to the stories of the Bible, she would 
often ask me to read them to her in preference to any 
others, for, related in its sublime but simple language, they 
always seemed to reach her understanding more readily 
than those of any other book, conveying with them all the 
force of reality. On the other hand, I found it very dif- 
ficult to impress her with any degree of reverence for the 
sacred volume, which she regarded in the light of a 



76 THE INDIAN AIFS. 

mere story book, and was convulsed with laughter one 
day whilst I was reading the parable of the wise and 
foolish virgins, as she pictured to herself the dilemma 
of those whose lamps had gone out, and who were 
overtaken by a fate she thought they too richly deserved ; 
and when she saw I was angry, and closed the book, she 
implored forgiveness, and the next moment was all tears 
over the pathetic history of the Prodigal's return. She 
was a child of impulse, and had never been schooled into 
keeping her emotions under control. 

She had not only lived in a missionary's family for 
some years when a child, but until the death of her mother, 
which took place two years before the time I first knew 
her, she had gone every day to take charge of, and amuse, 
the little daughter of one of the planters in the neigh- 
bourhood, which would account for her continuing to speak 
English. But since her mother's death she was miserable 
at home, her father ill-treating her in consequence of her 
obstinate adherence to a young Lepcha, whom he dis- 
approved of as a suitor, intermarriage with the hill tribes 
not being of frequent occurrence : besides which he was 
poor ; for although Lattoo's father was a man of substance, 
the lover's father possessed neither huts nor land, but 
earned a precarious subsistence by catching fish in the 
rivers, and selling it at Darjeeling ; and Atchoo (the lover) 
he had contemptuously called a 'loafer,' in the vernacular, 
a good-for-nought, who only kicked his legs backwards 
and forwards in the sun. 



LATTOO. 77 

In vain Lattoo argued that he possessed a ' ban;' and 
what more did a Lepcha need wherewith to begin Hfe, to 
whom it was everything ? With it he could make his 
own way in the world, and in time own huts and land 
and buffalo too, as did her father. Was it not to Ids 'ban' 
he owed everything ? 

But it happened, unfortunately for Lattoo, that a 
Bhootia in Sikkim, whose hut was half hidden by orange- 
trees and sugar-canes, on the other side of the valley, 
had crossed over the border, and also sought to win her. 
Atchoo had no money to pay for his bride — the greatest 
of all obstacles to a Bhootia father — but this rich suitor 
had offered to pay 400 rupees (40/.) down on the spot, 
and that sum her father, who besought her to be his, 
had reproachfully reminded her would pay for another 
herd of buffalo, and procure a comfortable independence 
for him in his old age. He even sent for a ' Peedangbo ' 
(priest) to bring his * mani,' or praying cylinder, to 
exorcise the evil spirit he believed must have got pos- 
session of her, inciting her to disobedience. But, in spite 
of all these pious efforts on the part of the priest, Lattoo 
would have nothing to say to him. 

Marriages amongst the hill people are sometimes 
arranged, when the parties are still children ; but not 
so in this instance, and Lattoo, arrived at the age of 
maturity, had evidently determined, after the English 
custom, to choose for herself. 

'Why should I marry a man I don't like, mem sahib?' 



78 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



she said to me one day, 'just because he has a planta- 
tion of sugar-canes and orange-trees, and bhoota (Indian- 
corn). He brought me a bangle yesterday, all gold, as 
big as that ; but I told him I would have none of him or 
his, and bid him begone.' 

I had never seen Atchoo, whose name was somehow 
always associated in my mind with a sneeze, but my im- 
pression was, she did not really care for either of her 
lovers, being spoiled for the society of her own people by 
having lived so long amongst Europeans, and that she 
only encouraged him, as many a tender-hearted woman 
will, simply because he was ill-spoken of and despitefully 
ill-treated. 




CLOUDLAND. 79 



CHAPTER IX. 

I MAKE A STARTLING PROPOSITION. 

We had been denizens of this cloudland already eighteen 
months ; had learnt much of the happy mountaineers and 
their simple lives ; had eaten steaks — and very good ones 
too — of rhinoceros, shot in the * terai ; ' had ridden through 
primaeval forests of birch, oak, walnut, and the pink and 
white magnolia ; had climbed its heights, and forced our 
way through thickets of the scarlet rhododendron ; had 
been sometimes overtaken in these expeditions by such 
thick mist that it required no little squinting to see the 
tip of one's own nose, not to say one's pony's, and the 
return homewards became a perilous enterprise ; had 
scrambled down pathless mountain sides to explore deep 
valleys, in which are fastnesses and rushing torrents 
which Salvator Rosa would have loved to paint ; when 
the longing I had felt, ever since my eyes first rested 
on that stupendous amphitheatre of snow-capped moun- 
tains, ripened at last into such strong determination to 
have a nearer view of them, before bidding adieu to this 
sweet land for ever, that one evening as we were sitting 
cosily in F 's sanctum over the blazing wood-fire, he 



8o THE INDIAN AIPS. 

smoking', and the fog literally trying to force its way 
through the keyhole, I cautiously broached the idea of 
a grand tour into the ' interior.' Upon which he gave 
me a look of much astonishment, and without taking the 
cigar from his mouth, but speaking in that stoccato 
manner, so habitual with smokers, replied : 

' I always knew, my dear — puff, puff — that it was 
useless — puff — to expect women — puff, puff — to be 
rational — puff, puff ; but I never knew until this mo- 
ment — puff — to what lengths you cotild go.' 

But I saw by the twinkle in his eye, and the plastic 
lines about his mouth, which he vainly strove to hide, 
that I had only to keep up a judicious agitation, ad- 
ministered in small but frequent doses, to have my way 
in the end. And if these means did not answer, well 
then, I must make use of stronger measures, and bombard 
the citadel, for to go I was determined. 

The former and milder measures succeeded, however, 
and it was not long before he sent in an application for 
three months' ' leave,' that he might travel with me 
whither my fancy led. The ' leave ' was speedily granted, 
and everything now favoured my making the long-wished- 
for journey, across trackless wastes to the snows. 

Few Europeans, and no lady, had hitherto attempted 
to explore the Eastern Himalaya, which, as will be seen 
hereafter, present greater difficulties to the traveller than 
the peaks of the Westei^n section, approached from Simla 
and Mussoorie, which are much easier of access. On the 



other hand, the mountains within reach of these stations 
are far less lofty; but we shall be travelling- towards Mount 
Everest and Kinchinjunga — the two highest mountains in 
the world — the whole way, so that if Darjeeling does not, 
as a starting-point, afford the same facilities in the matter 
of roads, &c., we shall at any rate have something to 
reward our enterprise. 

The perpetually snow-clad mountains of the great 
Kinchinjunga group, it must be understood, form an im- 
passable barrier, incapable of being crossed ; it is, there- 
fore, our intention to cross the range of intervening Alps 
till we reach their base, and then explore the glaciers, 
unless the weather at this season of the year should prove 
too inclement to admit of our doing so. 

Many were the predictions that, even if F re- 
turned alive, I, at any rate, should leave my bones to 
whiten on some mountain-top ; and many were the warn- 
ings of anxious friends, who did their utmost to induce us 
to relinquish so rash an undertaking ; but zest was only 
fostered by opposition, and we set about making prepara- 
tions in real earnest. Moreover, we were not to go alone, 
for a friend, having heard of our proposed expedition, 
offered to be of our party, and, furthermore, insisted on 
our being his guests on the way, so that we only needed 
the requisite number of baggage coolies to carry our tents 
and * impedimenta ' generally, the commissariat being 
cared for wholly by him ; and henceforth this friend will 
be known in these pages under the unostentatious little 

M 



82 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

initial C , albeit a mighty potentate in the eyes of 

the natives of the province, whose destinies he ruled with 
mild and beneficent sway. 

Unfortunately every season seems to be unsuited for 
travelling in the Himalaya. During the 'rains/ camping 
out is dangferous in the extreme on account of malaria. 
In March, April, and May it is, if possible, worse still, 
the whole country being enveloped in dense mist for days 
together. And although from October till March one can 
insure fine weather, and an absence of fog in the lower 
elevations, yet on account of the extreme cold, and absence 
not only of Alpine flowers, but fruit, upon which the 
Lepchas can almost wholly subsist, this may also be said 
to be a bad season ; yet it is the best of any, as Major 
Sherwill, Revenue Surveyor, found, who travelled due 
north from Darjeeling in 1861. Accordingly our plans 
were laid for starting in November. 

Having engaged a sirdar^ or head-man, to procure 
coolies, and make the necessary arrangements for the 

march, F , not liking to lose any portion of his leave, 

suggested that we should take a preliminary trip of ten 
days' or a fortnight's duration to the valley of the great 
Rungheet, and follow its silvery banks till it is joined 
by the noble Teesta, thence to cross the border into 
Bhootan, just to put our al~ fresco capabilities a little to 
the test. 

We were much 'exercised' at first as to the way we 
could best shelter ourselves by night, in the valley whither 



A LEFCIIA HUT. 83 



we were bound, far removed as it is from every vestige 
of civilisation. During the day the shade afforded by 
the branches of a tree would be sufficient in a climate 
genial as that of the valleys, and where at this season no 
rain is anticipated. But on confiding our difficulties to 

Dr. S , an erudite and experienced traveller in the 

Mongolian wilds, he suggested a leaf or ' Lepcha hut,' as 
it is called, believing we should find it more cool and 
pleasant than a tent. 

A Lepcha hut is made of boughs, interlaced between 
and over stakes, which are driven firmly into the ground, 
the floor being carpeted with dry ferns and moss ; and 
his description of it sounded so completely rural, har- 
monising so entirely with the pastoral frame of mind we 
happened to be in at the moment, that we at once fell in 
with the suggestion, discarding a tent, as an appendage 
of that effete civilisation we were so anxious to get be- 
yond ; but ' experientia docet,' and for results, anon. 

Meanwhile to live in a bower! How romantic, 
how sweetly Arcadian ! That would be doing the 
al-fresco with a vengeance. Already we picture to our- 
selves Flora and her nymphs spreading our carpet of 
ferns and mess, and covering us with leaves, like the 
babes in the wood; sylvan gods and goddesses feeding 
us with nectar and ambrosial food ; whilst the Dryads or 
wood nymphs dance before us in the moonlight. 

Not having seen La.ttoo for many days, and wonder- 
ing much the reason, before starting, I rode down to see 



her. It was one of those sweet mellow evenings, when 
one felt grateful to be a living creature, and everything 
around was so exceeding beautiful and fair, that one's 
heart seemed filled with one great outburst of praise and 
thanksgiving to God : the sky was bathed In a rich 
golden haze, the long undulating sweep of mountain out- 
line, cutting into it with deep blue ; whilst the valleys 
below were sleeping In soft pale shadow. From the 
little huts that nestled here and there, half-concealed by 
trees, the smoke curled Idly. All was still and peaceful, 
the universal hush of nature alone broken by the sound 
of my pony's feet, as he scrambled over the loose stones 
that lay everywhere along the pathway, and the musical 
trickling of water from tiny streamlets gliding down the 
forest-clad declivities, and hidden deep in perennial green- 
eries of moss and fern. A balmy air stirred with gentle 
rustle the massive fronds of the tree-fern, and swayed 
the long and leafy air-roots to and fro that hung from 
the loftier trees. Now and then peasants crept noise- 
lessly up the mountain-side with 'chongas,' or pitchers, to 
a place where the stream, eddying down with greater force, 
was caught in troughs of bamboo ; at which having filled 
their vessels, they returned to prepare their simple pot- 
au-feu, stooping now and then to gather wild herbs with 
which to flavour It ; each, on recognising the ' Taswir 
mem sahib,' as they called me (pronounced tasweer), 
greeting me with a kindly smile, or some such words as 
follow : — 



OLD GW ALLAH. 85 



' It is late for the mem sahib to write the trees. Lo ! 
the sun is sinking, she will be overtaken by darkness.' Or, 

* My beta baba (baby boy) is grown big, and will sit 
quite still now if the mem sahib will but come and paint 
him ; and the tree she liked is in full blossom, and the 
fruit of the passion flower that grows over the thatch is 
ripe : she must come and see it' 

Presently, however, I heard a querulous voice, which 
I soon recognised as belonging to an old woman who 
assisted Lattoo in taking care of the kine. She was 
talking to herself as she came along, gesticulating angrily, 
and her eyes fixed steadfastly upon the ground : she had 
not seen my approach. 

' What's the matter with you, Gwallah ? ' I exclaimed ; 
' has anything happened at home ? ' 

' Matter ! happened ! ' she replied, looking up with a 
startled expression and speaking in broken Hindustani, 
and here and there a word of English she had learnt 
from Lattoo. ' Ah, well ! what's the use of talking ? talk- 
ing won't make things different ; ' and then, as if unable 
to keep silence any longer, added : 

* How can these two hands be expected to milk the 
beasts, and fetch water, and do all sorts besides, and at 
my time of life ? Look ; ' and she exposed her poor 
wrinkled skinny arm. ' Is it right, I ask you ?' 

' But where is Lattoo } She used to help you.' 

* Lattoo indeed. She's only been a fine lady since 
the mem sahib wrote her face, and had her up to her own 



house so much, and thinks of nothing now but sticking 
flowers into her ears and such Hke, and the sooner she 
herself goes over the black water^ and reaches Ballat 
(England), the better. She's no good here ; and there's 
no good either in a Bhootia girl keeping company with a 
wandering Lepcha, who's never got any house to live in 
worth speaking of 

And I felt that the old woman was right here, for 
the Lepchas seldom stay more than three years at most 
in one place, and are essentially a nomad people. 

' But who am I to say anything ? ' she continued, ironi- 
cally ; ' the mem sahib is going down to the hut, and will 
see all for herself; ' and with a mocking laugh and shrug 
of the shoulders she went on her way. 

The buffalo had already been driven home, for I 
could see them in their shed long before I reached it; 
and fully expecting to find Lattoo, as usual, spinning or 
weaving in the balcony, I touched my pony with the 
whip and hastened on ; but on arriving at the hut I found 
it empty. Thinking she might be somewhere about 
the place, I called to her loudly, but received no answer. 
Some one had been there recently, however, for the fish- 
ing-nets, which were hanging out to dry in the sun, were 
still wet. Climbing the ladder I entered the hut. It was 
composed of one large apartment, divided in the centre by 
a partition of matting ; logs of wood were still smoulder- 
ing on the hearth, and a large iron pot, containing milk 

' Black water is the term invariably used by natives for the sea, ^ 



LATTOO LEAVES HOME, 



87 



which had been scalded, and had not yet had time to grow 
cold, was standing beside it. In another stood the butter- 
milk, poured from the ' chongas ' after the cream had been 
churned : but all this I knew was generally done by her 
father, and Lattoo might not have had any hand in it 
whatever. 

Passing through the outer room, I entered the inner, 
by a doorway in the partition. There was her bed of 
dried ferns in the corner, raised on a dais of bamboo, as 
I had always seen it. There was the little altar with its 
grotesque idols supported by two rudely carved elephants, 
but the little things that were usually strewn about were 
there no longer : an old silver charm-box, which she told 
me had belonged to her mother, and which always hung 
over her bed, was gone also ; and feeling by intuition that 
she had left home, I rode away with a heavy heart, wonder- 
ine much whether I should ever see her aeain. 




-isjfe- 3t 



CHAPTER X. 

THE HAPPY VALLEY. 

Having made preparations for a fortnight's absence 
from home and the haunts of men, we secured the 
services of six Lepchas to go on a day in advance, 
not only to construct the habitation in question, but to 
convey our stores. These principally consisted of her- 
metically sealed provisions, bread, a little stock of live 
moorghees, a supply of wine, and the universal ' Bass ' 
— which provision for the necessities of the inner man is 
unquestionably very humiliating; but in these degenerate 
days, food for the eye and the mind is, after all, but sorry 
consolation to the body. Fancy ' Bass ' amongst the gods ! 

' And why not ? ' broke in F , somewhat absently, 

at my elbow, who had just been helping to pack these 
creature comforts, and despatching the men with them, we 
ourselves having arranged to follow at daybreak on the 
morrow. 

And what a cold morning it turned out to be ! Stand- 
ing at the door of our chalet, waiting for our ponies to be 
brought round, we could see that the ground was covered 
with a thick coating of hoar-frost, which made the sur- 
rounding world, at least as much of it as was visible at 



SUNRISE ON THE SNOWS. 89 



that dreamy hour, look perfectly white. The mists that 
invariably ascend the valleys, like the breath of the 
morning, to greet the rising sun, had not yet appeared, 
but were still hovering about the mighty rivers far far 
below, or lying in sleepy hollows in the mountains ; and the 
stupendous peaks, with their miles of virgin snow, were 
standing out sheer, stately, and solemn, like giant phan- 
toms against the darkling sky, where pale stars were feebly 
shining, as though they were weary of their long watch 
over the sleeping world, and were wondering how long 
it would be ere the sun would rise to take their place and 
relieve guard. 

In another instant Kinchinjunga. the centre and 
proud monarch of them all, Avas tipped with vermilion ; 
then followed other peaks in rapid succession, till the effect 
against the still cold and opaque sky, whilst the world be- 
neath was also hovermg between darkness and dawn, was 
precisely that of their having been kindled by some mighty 
hand, for as yet the extreme points only were illuminated, 
and the glaciers and vast rocky valleys of the snowy 
region were wrapped in that mysterious ghost-like gloom 
impossible to describe, and which must be seen even to 
be imagined. It was just the sight to awe one into silence, 
and after a start of surprise, we were involuntarily subdued 
by the majesty of the scene. 

' Hush ! ' I heard F say, scarcely above a whisper, 

' Do they not look like Titanic fires ? ' 

The effect I have been endeavouring to describe is, 

N 



90 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

however, quite unlike that which, seen at sunrise on 
the Swiss Alps, I have loved to watch, when that 
tender roseate hue, like a faint blush overspreading 
them, gives to expectant Earth her first intimation of 
the approach of Day. These mountains of the Hima- 
laya, from their exalted position in the heavens, catch 
a glimpse of the sun when he is still so far below the 
horizon, that his rays have no influence upon that portion 
of the earth visible to us, and before even Dawn, the fore- 
runner, has appeared. In the universal darkness and 
gloom therefore that brood over all, these giant fires, 
against the almost sable vault of heaven, appear terribly 
weird and supernatural. 

But as we silently stand and gaze, see ! the glorious 
sun ascends, and each pinnacle and spire becomes irra- 
diated with softer tints of opal, and the sky is filled with 
an auroral brightness, although ive are in grey dawn still, 
and the silent valleys at our feet are bathed in the deepest 
sapphire, save where a translucent well of vapour floats 
calmly like a lake. 

But our ponies by this time have been brought 
round, and are manifesting signs of impatience to be off. 
So we mount, and are en route at last, zig-zagging 
cautiously down the steep mountain, the crisp frosty 
ground scrunching beneath their feet. Leaving a forest 
of birch behind, we soon reach the Bhootia Busti, 
through which we have to thread our way. All here is 
still wrapt in slumber, and the men, women, and children, 



THE BHOOTIA BUSH. 91 

the pigs, poultry, and pariah dogs, are severally dreaming 
of their happy hunting grounds. Sitting shivering at 
the closed door of one of the huts is a wretched-looking 
pariah. He makes a dash at us as we pass, barking 

furiously, and seizes F 's pony by the tail, whilst a pig 

gives a grunt of approval from within. Everything 
seems to think we have ' waked them too soon, they 
must slumber again.' 

The clatter of our ponies' hoofs and the yelping of the 
dog have by this time created a general stir. Doors open, 
and Bhootias, and shrivelled old women like mummies and 
dried potatoes, stand and look at us sleepily over frail 
wooden balconies. On past the little white temple, sacred 
to Budh, with its cluster of many-coloured flags hanging 
helplessly in the still morning air : on past huts tanned 
with smoke, so bolstered up with sticks and stakes that 
it is a perfect marvel how they contrive to hold together 
at all, their mat and mud walls so battered that one can 
often see through them into the very lives of the people 
themselves : on, till a pink family of infantine pigs stops 
the way, which now joins in the general exodus — 
' leedle peegs,' as my attendant syce (groom) calls them, 
proud to exhibit the few words of English he knows ; — 
how they scrimmage hither and thither in frightened 
tumult, and how, in their praiseworthy endeavours to 
get oitt of the way, they hopelessly get into it, and 
under our ponies' feet, till at last the old sow, frantic 
with maternal forebodings, rushes to the rescue, utter- 



92 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



ing- shrill squeaky gutturals : on, till the little colony 
with all its dirt and apparent wretchedness is left far 
behind, and our ponies, picking their way — for they need 
no guidance, and know best themselves where a sure 
footing may be had — scramble down the steep path, tread- 
ing often so closely to the edge, where the roughness 
of the way obliges them to do so, that my habit abso- 
lutely hangs over the * khud ' or precipice, and I hold my 
breath, for one false step might hurl me down the abyss. 
These hill ' tats,' as they are called, have an exceedingly 

uncomfortable way of hugging the 
' khud ' side of the path, a conse- 
quence of having, before they fell 
into European hands, been made 
by natives to carry large leathern 
bottles of oil, spirit, and other 
liquids, or sacks of grain, to and 
from the foot of the hills. These 
loads, strapped each side of them 
like panniers, compel them to 
keep to the outside of the narrow mountain pathways to 
get along at all, and this habit they ever after retain. 

Nature has adapted the Sikkim pony peculiarly for 
climbing, and they canter up the mountain steeps with 
marvellous speed. A few days after our arrival at Dar- 
jeeling, the wife of the chaplain, who was riding up from 
the station by the zig-zag path that led to the garrison, 
reined in her pony — an impetuous little animal — too 




THE MOUNTAIN ' TAT: 93 

abruptly. The pony reared, fell backwards, and was in- 
stantly killed ; the lady herself, although greatly stunned 
by her fall, and picked up in an insensible state, happily 
sustaining no further injury. This was a circumstance 
not calculated to inspire a stranger with confidence; but 
it is wonderful in how short a time one grows heedless of 
danger in this keen mountain air, and how one loves to 
fly before the wind, fast riding, although unquestionably 
' bad form,' becoming a perfect passion in these hills. 

These hill ' tats ' are often very stubborn little crea- 
tures, as well as occasionally given to inconvenient fits of 
contemplation, sometimes insisting on pulling up short, at 
the most dangerous parts of the road, as if to work out 
their ideas there and then ; at other times, when they 
know they are carrying a timid rider, and one innocent of 
spurs — and what pony doesn't ? — they will stand at the 
very brink of the precipice, and calmly survey the scene 
below. Nor is this practice so strange as it may at 
first seem ; the Bhootias who rear them having their 
dwellings somewhere down the mountain declivities, they 
may possibly catch sight of the thatch of their humble 
birthplace, and be thinking with fond regret of some 
former happiness no longer theirs. Accustomed to climb 
these heights in their babyhood, like Alpine chamois, they 
have been known also to carry a lady down the ' khud ; ' 
but this, fortunately, is of rare occurrence, and although 
the sensations of the fair equestrian in the former case 
cannot be envied, she has only to shut her eyes, and wait 



94 



THE INDIAN AIFS. 



patiently till it has finished its moralising, when it will 
go on of itself as before. 

Our way now lies through banks clothed in a rich 
garment of lycopodia and ferns, tangled together in the 
most delicious confusion and abandon of nature it is 




possible to conceive — forming a bewildering maze of 
beauty ; amongst which, here and there, if you look for 
it, a modest violet may be seen hanging its head, and try- 
ing to hide in the tufts of moss — that little flower, so 
loved and sung of by the Ancients, and treasured still, 
thank God, even in our own prosaic days. 

All is glistening with dew, for by this time we have 



TREE FERNS. ' 95 



zig-zagged below the region of frost, and meet with 
a gentle shower-bath occasionally as we brush through 
the foliacre and the lono- fern fronds which overhano- our 
pathway. 

Descending further, we come upon ferns that will 
not grow at Darjeeling, the banks being now white in 
many places with the tender fronds of the ' silver fern,' 
the little sensitive things shrivelled up by the cold, except 
in sheltered nooks and corners, even in this warmer 
locality. Another thousand feet, and we see them grow- 
ing vigorously everywhere, and although aware that we 
shall be in their midst for days to come, I cannot resist 
the temptation to stop and gather them, they are so ex- 
quisitely and irresistibly lovely. The syces, too, decorate 
our ponies' heads with them, to keep off the flies. 

And now we have descended to the region of the 
tree-fern, that most beautiful of all the Himalayan flora, 
of which we pass many groups growing on either side of 
the pathway, their fronds of tender green forming Gothic 
arches overhead, covered with a rich tracery of parasites 
and delicate climbers clinging to their stems. The lower 
we descend the more luxuriant vegetation becomes. We 
now pass through forests of sol, its stately trunks covered 
with epiphytical ferns, air plants, and gigantic climbers, 
which, tw^ining themselves round everything, hang from 
bough to bough, and stretching out their strong arms catch 
hold of neighbouring trees, till the whole forms a fresco-like 
canopy of many-coloured leaves. Another hundred feet. 



96 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

and we observe a magnificent parasite enveloping the 
trunks and branches of numerous trees from top to bottom, 
its highly glazed leaves, fully three feet long, being pin- 
nated like a palm. In splendid contrast to this is the 
lofty cotton-tree, its bark silvery white, and scarlet blos- 
soms the size of a man's hand, the ground beneath being 
carpeted with soft down which is discharged from the 
full-blown flower. 

Approaching tropical vegetation, we now pass beneath 
the drooping heads of the pandanus palm, and have to 
pursue our way cautiously, for the path is not only rough 
and narrow, but so terribly steep, that it is almost more 
than we can do to keep on our ponies, and I feel strongly 
inclined — there being no spectator — to lay hold of the 
pommel of my saddle, or the pony's mane or his tail, or 
all three together if I could, indeed anything and every- 
thing, to enable me to hold on. In one place the path 
is almost perpendicular, but my brave little steed takes 
me down without stumbling in the least, pausing now 
and again over the most dangerous bits of the road with 
a sagacity that seems something more than mere instinct, 
as if he were pondering with befitting gravity which is 
the best way to proceed. Presently I become conscious 

of the absence of the clattering hoofs of F 's pony, 

and looking back, or rather upwards, for they seem to 
be impaled on the very sky, I behold him using every 
persuasion to induce his steed to follow the example of 
mine; but nothing evidently is further from its intentions, 



IVI^ CJ^OSS A BAMBOO BRIDGE. 



97 



for that noble animal has planted its fore feet on the 
extreme edge of the descent, its whole attitude and 
expression manifesting a strong determination to pro- 
ceed not another inch. So refusing to be brought to 
terms by any argument whatever, it calmly lies down, 
and rolling over, gets rid of its rider without further 
ceremony. 

F , thus ingloriously vanquished, wisely decides to 




give up the contest, remembering that ' discretion is the 
better part of valour ; ' and once more on his pony at the 
bottom of the descent, we zig-zag down a less precipitous 
part of the mountain, till a river, as yet invisible, thunders 
at our feet ; and v/e soon reach the valley, where we find 
we have to cross a mountain stream — an affluent, I 
believe, of the greater river — by a very insecure bridge 

o 



scarcely more than two feet broad. F dismounts 

here, and leads my pony across; and once on the other 
side, we have to force our way through a forest of 
mimosa, familiarly called the sensitive plant in England, 
attaining however in these latitudes a height of fifteen 
or eighteen feet. As we pass, the leaves close, and the 
branches droop with a gentle ' sough ' or sigh, making 
one half believe they must be living things. At each 
step we tread down clusters of the golden fern, which 
forms the undergrowth of the forest, and grows with as 
great luxuriance as our common bracken on English 
moors ; and then at last we come in sight of the white 
banks of the beautiful Rungheet, lashing itself into spray 
over boulders of ' gneiss,' its surface disturbed by myriads 
of transparent and perfectly green waves, as it tears 
madly along. 

This noble river, which takes its rise amongst the 
glaciers of Kinchinjunga, winds through a stupendous 
gorge, the precipitous mountains on either side stretching 
upwards many thousand feet, densely clothed with magni- 
ficent primeval forest, from the luxuriant tropical vegeta- 
tion that skirts its banks to that which is indigenous to 
cold latitudes only. It is impossible to describe at all 
adequately the exquisite and almost heavenly beauty 
of the scene, or the delicate colouring of the rocks and 
boulders on the margin of the river, which is that of por- 
phyry and alabaster, contrasting quite ethereally with the 
metallic green of the water. 



THE HAPPY VALLEY. 99 

We seem suddenly to have been transported into 
fairyland, and all is more like an extravagant dream than 
reality. Gorgeous butterflies of every hue are sailing in 
the air, or sunning themselves on the banks, where sitting 
with wings erect they look like little Dutch galiots at 
anchor, the most numerous amongst them being the large 
' swallowtail ' species, robed in black velvet with scarlet 
spots on their wings, and long antennae. Birds in plumage 
of scarlet, blue, and orange, flit among the branches of 
the majestic sol ; and a perfectly marvellous little creature, 
belonging to a species of lepidopterous insect, with a 
vermilion body, and wings of transparent and glittering 
emerald, hovers above and around us in multitudes, 
whilst the air is filled with a melodious chorus of happy 
creatures. But what strikes one more than all, after the 
great beauty of the scene, is the wondrous variety and 
number of living things, earth and air alike teeming 
with life. 

The only human inhabitants of the valley are a small 
number of native police, stationed here by the British 
Government, the river being the boundary between what 
is called independent Sikkim and Bhootan. 

Although our servants started an hour earlier than we 
did ourselves, four of them are loitering behind — viz. that 
very important functionary the cook, the kitmutgar, and 
the ponies' leaf-cutters. It had previously been arranged 
that we should halt here for the purpose of giving our- 
selves and our ponies rest, and after our exciting ride of 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



twelve miles of road, such as would seem absolutely im- 
passable to persons uninitiated in travelling in the moun- 
tains of the Himalaya,, we are sorely needing- some 
little refreshment, but have unfortunately to await their 
arrival, as they carry with them the provender not only 
for the ponies, but for ourselves also. Taking shelter in 
one of the chowkeydars' (policemen) huts from the burn- 
ing sun, F sends a native to shout for them, believing 

they cannot be far off; nor is he wrong, for the shout, which 
is echoed up the valley, is quickly answered, and all join 
us in half an hour, when they proceed to prepare our 
breakfast beneath the spreading branches of a tree a little 
distance off; for to eat in the chowkeydars hut, who is 
a Plainsman, would be to defile and render it unfit 
habitation for pious Mahomedan for ever, and, temptingly 
cool and scrupulously clean as it is, we have to yield 
to the prejudices of caste. 

While the kettle is boiling over a camp-fire we 
unpack the baskets to get at the edibles, and some 
cream we brought for our tea, believing that milk even, 
in these unpeopled regions, would be too great a luxury 
to expect ; but, alas ! it has changed its character entirely 
by this time, and contains, instead, a consolidated yellowish 
mass, commonly called butter! — a result not very greatly 
to be wondered at certainly, seeing that it had been 
subjected to a violent churning process for the last four 
hours, but it was nevertheless one which, in our utter 
ignorance of such matters, we had never anticipated. 



Last evening, just as I was retiring to rest, I was told 
by my ayah, who had heard it from the ' bearer,' who 
had been told by the kitmutgar, who had seen a Lepcha 
woman, who had been to the * bazaar ' and learnt it from 
a Bhootia, who had heard it from somebody else, that a 
* durra,' (great) sahib, accompanied by a numerous retinue, 
was also going down to the Teesta to-day, and was 
moreover to encamp at the bridge. Now, these were hard 
lines, to say the least of it, and provoking beyond every- 
thing : my heart sank within me. Not once in three 
months was anyone known to seek these wilds at all, and 
now to think that he should have chosen the very same 
day that we did. Had not our men already gone on 
with provisions, &c., I should have endeavoured to 

persuade F to postpone our visit till this great man's 

return. In my perverse character of ' anchoress,' I had 
hoped to have the beauteous valley all to ourselves. It is 
true, as he somewhat sarcastically observed, we should 
find plenty of room ; but in my day-dreams I had 
pictured myself as a sort of Lady of the Lake, with 
flowing hair. We were to be Paul and Virginia over again ; 
but how had my bright visions faded, ' leaving not a wrack 
behind ' ! 

Who can this ' biirra ' sahib be ? was a question I 

asked of F a hundred times, who hinted — he was 

in a provokingly sarcastic mood — that perhaps it would 
be as well to wait and see. A retinue of servants, however, 
suggested Eastern magnificence. Could it be the Emperor 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



of China, or the King of the Cannibal Islands, or — oh, 
agonies ! worse still — one of Cook's tourists, or Cook him- 
self, perhaps, come to spy out the land and reconnoitre 
for the enemy ? Yes, that was it — we saw it all — we had 
long ago expected it. Was it likely that these beautiful 
solitudes would remain uninvaded much longer ? Falling 
to sleep at length with the impression strong upon me, I 
was haunted by tourist apparitions. I saw hosts of them 
bearing down upon us : English tourists, hot and eager, 
Murray and alpenstock in hand ; lanky American 
tourists come to do the Himalayas, singing 'U -pi- 
dee ;' lively French tourists, shouting ' Vivent les Alpes In- 
diemies !' heavy Prussians and German students, with 
ponderous spectacles on nose — undemonstrative but ad- 
miring, 'Ach Himntel ! wie wunderschon ! ' with frequent, 
prolonged, and deeper mutterings of ' J a wohl ! ' and 
' Zo — - — ! ' in linked sweetness long drawn out ; 
poetic Italian tourists, with large grave eyes, gazing in 
silent wonder. On they came — they came — and still they 
came, till the most distant tourist was but a mere speck 
on the horizon. 

Meeting a surly-looking Bhootia woman, leading a 
cow, on our way hither, we enquired whether she had 
heard who the ' buri'-a ' sahib was, who intended coming 
down to the Teesta to-day, and where he came from ; 
upon which she stated that, for her part, she didn't know 
who he was, or where he came from : all she did know 
was, that his servants had arrived, for she had met them 



FOREBODINGS. 103 



on the way, and she supposed the ' biirra sahib ' would 
soon follow. 

It was but too true then ; he was a stern reality, and 
the object of our dire hatred until this identical instant, 

when F , who had been talking to one of the ' chow- 

keydars,' came running towards me, with the joyful news 
that he had assured him, on repeating the enquiry, that 
it was not only a ' bun^a sahib,' but a ' mem sahib,' and 
that we were they ; and we disc(:>vered that we had all 
along been afraid of our own shadows. 

Considerably refreshed in body and relieved in mind, 
and having given our ponies a long rest, we start at noon 
for the Teesta, fourteen miles further on. Our path now 
lies along the shady banks of the river, and we find our- 
selves literally enclosed on one side by golden ferns, 
which grow to an enormous size, their stems fully 
three feet high, with fronds in proportion. We meet 
with the pretty fragile maiden-hair also in abundance ; 
as well as a climbing fern in full fructification, with broad 
fronds, its tiny- tendrils reaching out towards everything 
for support, the most perfectly beautiful thing I ever 
beheld. On the other side of the path, tall flags of 
the pampas-grass are growing between the white boul- 
ders, as well as the dwarf date palm {Ph(E7tix acaidis) ; 
and this part of our ride, though more devoid of inci- 
dent, is by far the most enjoyable. Not wishing to 
hasten over it, we gently walk our ponies, and revel 
in the fair scene around, each turn in the broad river 



I04 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



seeming to present even greater beauty than the last. 
Sometimes we meet groups of Bhootias, on their way 
to Darjeehng with merchandise, which they carry either 
in long baskets or bundles tied to a kursing or bamboo 
frame, which is strapped to their shoulders. 

At length we reach the splendid Teesta, which flowing 
through a gorge scarcely less stupendous than that of the 




Rungheet, hastens to meet it from its birthplace, the 
bosom of the Choma lake, in Thibet, and which is formed 
of melted snow, A finer sight than the junction of these 
two rivers cannot well be imagined. The water of the 
Teesta is metallic green, but turbid ; that of the Rung- 
heet clear as crystal, whilst the two may be seen to flow 
on together for a considerable distance, without mingling 
in the least, like the rivers Aar and Rhone at Geneva. 

We do not linger here, however, the Teesta bridge 
being our destination, two miles further up the river, and 



THE HAPPY VALLEY. 



^05 



putting our ponies into a canter, we quickly come in sight 
of it. Here we are met by our advanced guard of 
baggage coolies, whom we despatched with stores and 
baggage yesterday, and one of whom we find to be a 
woman. But we were prepared for this, our ' khansamah,' 
who surely ought to have been an Irishman, having 
gravely informed us previously, that one of the six Lepcha 
men whom we commissioned him to engage for us, was 
the wife of a Bhootia ; and a very fine specimen of the 
Mongolian race she is, her face both flat and sallow. 
They have not made a hut expressly for us, however, 
there happening to be one already at the foot of the 
bridge, the temporary abode of some other nomad ; and 
here it is. 










CHAPTER XL 



FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS. 



We are certainly disappointed in not finding the genuine 
'leaf hut that we expected, but this is quite rural enough 
to satisfy even the most poetical of travellers, and, more- 
over, possesses the additional novelty of being reached 
by a ladder, not of * ropes,' but of bamboo. By way of 
being very attentive, our Lepchas have made a huge fire 
opposite to it. This small attention we would rather have 
dispensed with, in this melting locality ; but it is, at any 
rate, suggestive of a refreshing cup of afternoon tea. One 
of the Lepchas Is soon observed scaling the mountain to 
fetch milk, there existing a shepherd not far up, passing 
rich in possession of a cow ; and he soon returns, bearing 
a quantity in a * chonga,' which he cut for the purpose 
on his way thither. 

We find our little habitation to be eight feet square, 
and raised on poles ten or twelve feet from the ground, 
whilst the flooring, being constructed wholly of rattan 
canes laid side by side, is so springy and elastic, that when 
standing on it, it is no easy matter to maintain one's 



equilibrium, and, taken altogether, I do think it is the 
most amusing apology for a dwelling possible to conceive, 

Whilst F cToes for a bath where the river is 

shallower, I venture on the bridge. Although flowing 
with its usual speed, the Teesta is deeper and less 
turbulent here, whilst the marvellous bridge spanning it, 
three hundred feet long, is composed solely of rattan 
cane, without the aid of a single nail or piece of rope 
from beofinnino- to end. 

O <z> 

The canes of these bridges — for there are many 
others in these valleys — are taken from a species of cala- 
mus, an immense climber which roams the forest, and 
covers each tree, its gigantic tendrils frequently extend- 
ing no less a distance than forty or fifty yards. The 
bridge has to be crossed singly, not only on account of its 
base being too narrow, to admit of two doing so abreast, 
but because it is considered unsafe to subject so fragile 
a structure to much weight. It is moreover so pliable 
and elastic, that a person standing at either end can make 
it toss up and down at will, the whole fabric vibrating 
and oscillating at each foot-fall. The appearance of this 
bridge is that of a delicate piece of net-work, and the 
sensations of the passenger are not only those of utter 
insecurity, as each fibre creaks and strains with his 
weight, but the sides being transparent, he feels as though 
he himself were being borne along at a tremendous 
speed, whilst the river beneath is stationary, It is 
undoubtedly a wonderful structure, and one that would 



puzzle an English engineer to contrive ; and so striking an 
instance Is It of the natural Ingenuity and mechanical skill 
of the natives of the hills, that a fuller description of Its 
construction may not be quite out of place here. I quote 
from Major J. S. Shirwell, R.E., who, from more technical 
knowledge, is better able than I am to describe it : — 

' The main chains supporting the bridge are composed 
of five rattan canes each ; the sides are of split cane, 
hanging from either main chain as loops, two feet apart 
and two feet deep Into these loops the platform is laid, 
composed of three bamboos the size of a man's arm, laid 
side by side ; the section of the bridge resembling the 
letter V, In the angle or base of which the traveller finds 
footing, . . . Outriggers, to prevent the main chains 
being brought together with the weight of the passenger, 
are placed at every ten or twelve feet, in the following 
manner : — Under the platform, and parallel to the stream, 
strong bamboos are passed, and from their extremities to 
the main chain (of cane) split rattan ropes are firmly tied. 
This prevents the hanging loop, or bridge, from shutting 
up and choking the passenger. The piers of these 
bridges are generally two convenient trees, through whose 
branches the main chains are passed, and pegged into the 
ground on the opposite side.' 

I observe that the native police, several of whom are 
also stationed here — the bridge forming the connecting 
link between British territory and Bhootan — do not 
permit persons carrying heavy loads to cross it, and for 



THE TEESTA BRIDGE. 109 



these a small bamboo raft is used, which looks if possible 
more fragile and dangerous still. The river is too rapid 
and the current too strong to be navigable, and I have 
been wondering how our troops managed when they 
marched into Bhootan, twelve or fourteen years ago. 
It must have occupied them a long time if they 
crossed it by the bridge. I forget now the cause of 
our skirmish in the neighbouring country, where so many 
of our brave fellows fell, not so much by sword as by 
disease. Some of them, reaching Bhootan before their tents 
and provisions, had to lie down on the saturated ground 
— for it was either during or immediately after the rainy 
season — and to subsist wholly on the food which they could 
obtain from the people of the thinly populated and hostile 

country through which they passed. F was under 

orders to join that expedition at one time, but his place 
was subsequently filled by one who, strange to say, died 
from the effects of this campaign. The bridge, if they 
crossed it, would have been the ' Bridge of Sighs ' to 
very many, had they known their fate then. And I 
cannot help thinking of all this sorrowfully, as I stand 
upon it and watch the river flowing by. 

But whilst I have been thus musing, F , seated 

on the lowest step of the little ladder, has been smoking 
txie pipe of peace, taking silent interest apparently in 
the cooking of the dinner, gipsy-like over the camp- 
fire,- whence bubblings and frizzlings full of savoury 
promise reach me even at this distance, indicating com- 



pletion at no remote period. In half an hour's time I 
bend my steps in the direction of our ' shanty,' and meet 
the kitmutgar, who as usual, en grande temie, informs 
me with the state and dignity with which a well-bred 
Oriental always makes the important announcement, that 
— khana tiayar hai (dinner is served). 

Approaching the hut, I can already see F through 

the open cane-work, seated on the floor like a regular native, 
everything spread round him in convenient order. But no 
sooner have I ascended the ladder, and entered the aper- 
ture with an incautious bound, quite forgetting the elasti- 
city of the floor, than each viand hops off its own dish on 
to that of something else, and all is dire confusion. The 
chicken which he was prepared to carve with the ceremony 
that befitted the occasion, takes refuge in the bread-plate, 
a bottle of claret empties its contents into his wide-awake, 
which he had thrown down beside him, whilst a shower 
of small missiles flies into the air. Nor is it easy to 
restore tranquillity, for no sooner is one erratic viand 
rescued, than another has flown off in a different direction. 
A game-pie — the supreme effort of our chef— on which 
we had set our longing hearts, had disappeared entirely, 
and with divers small comestibles was simply * nowhere;' 
but the chinks in the floor affording a charming bird's-eye 
view of the sandy beach below, we can discern the salt 
spoon calmly reposing in a pool of claret in the hollow 
of a stone. The pie, however, and the other missing 
articles we do not discover till the close of the repast. 



OUR RUSTIC HABITATION. 



when they are dug out of a heap of bag-gage baskets in a 
corner, very cobwebby, and generally the ' worse for wear.' 

Notwithstanding these discouragements, however, our 
dinner was anything but a fiction, and the exercise we 
had in capturing the fugitive dishes only gave additional 
zest to our appetites. 

As we sit here, it is interesting to watch the natives 
cross the bridge, which they do at frequent intervals. 




Some, blindfolding themselves first, y^^/ their way across, 
lest the height and rushing water should make them giddy ; 
and what singular Chinese-looking men they are, with 
their long pigtails, and petticoats of amber, and crimson, 
and green ; they look wonderfully like figures on an old- 
fashioned tea-tray, and are, I imagine, Chino -Thibetans. 
Having started so early in the morning, we resolve 
to retire early, if that can be called retirement, where 



everything but the stars can see us ; and I am not sure 
that one of these even is not peeping through a hole in 
the thatch, for, be it known, our charming Httle abode is 
open on all sides but one. Vide illustration. The heat is 
exceedingly oppressive, however, so that perhaps after 
all it is a wise arrangement. On two sides of the hut 
bamboo shelves had been erected two feet from the 
ground, and as many broad, like berths in the cabins of 
a ship. On these our little camp mattresses are placed, and, 
simply throwing rugs around us, we recline upon them. 

As soon as we extinguish the candle, which in true 
' camp fashion ' is standing in a bottle of departed 
' Bass,' looking, from its limp and idiotic appearance, as 
though it had partaken considerably of that beverage 
itself, the sweet moonlight streams in upon us through 
the dried palm-leaves, which hang loosely over the roof 
of our little wigwam like a fringe, and which the wind 
softly stirring, rustles with a soft dreamy noise. De- 
lightful Is it to listen to the roar of the river, as it 
tumbles foaming over boulders in the distance, and to 
be lulled to sleep by Its soothing ripple, as It laves the 
banks immediately below, the fragrant air sweeping over 
us the while. 

Everything has a calming influence, half mesmeric, 
and I am just In that transition state between waking and 
sleeping, carrying thoughts of Longfellow's Evangeline 
and Hiawatha with me Into dreamland — of which these 
surroundings forcibly remind me — when I am startled by 



STRANGE BEDFELLOWS. 113 



some large bird flying through the hut, making it vibrate 
with the flapping of its wings. After this I He awake a 
long time, filled with an uncomfortable sensation lest 
it should return, and listening to a night-bird that has 
just begun its plaint, which uttering a continuous wail- 
ing cry, sounds particularly mournful amidst the general 
stillness. But its monotony at length lulls me into deep 
slumber, and it, with Evangeline and Hiawatha, and 
' Minnehaha, laughing water,' is alike buried in the sweet 
oblivion of Lethe, when I am again aroused by nume- 
rous bats, flying backwards and forwards, and beating 
themselves blindly against the sides of the hut. I am 
just beginning to put up with them as part oi the pro- 
gramme when, ugh ! two, swooping down, actually fan 
my cheeks with their wings. This is more than I can 
bear, and I subside beneath my rug. 

Slumber henceforth is out of the question, for besides 
all this, every now and again, native travellers pass close 
by to cross the bridge, making stealthy and suggestive 
noises on the elastic cane-work with their naked feet ; 
and I cannot help thinking that it might have been as 
well, had there been some kind of door, or enclosure, to 
the entrance of the hut. Moreover, the existence of 
the ladder fills me with vague apprehensions, and a sensa- 
tion familiarly known as the ' creeps.' At these moments 
I can fully appreciate and sympathise with Robinson 
Crusoe's motive in dragging his up after him, but ours 
happens unfortunately to be a fixture. 

Q 



114 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



Then as night wears on — as though the visitants, real 
and imaginary, which I have already enumerated, were not 
enough — water rats come scrambhng up the poles, and 
get not only into the hut, but make a violent raid into 
the provision baskets, where I plainly hear them scratch- 
ing and nibbling the paper in their attempts to get at 




the stores, failing in which, I am in an agony lest, in 
a fit of disappointment and rage, they should take to 
our toes. 

Not liking to awaken F , I whisper a soft ' Shish ! 

shish ! ' at which they scamper off as fast as they can go ; 
but presently I hear the ' patter, patter, patter ' of their 
little feet on the cane floor, and know they only retired 



'FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS: 115 

with precipitation, to return again as soon as all was quiet. 
Finally, alio'hting amongst a lot of plates, they do at last 
startle and arouse him, and then what a scuttling there is, 
when, regardless of consequences to the cups and saucers, 
he hurls his boot at them ; and how they rush about, 
becoming so hopelessly frightened that they cannot find 
exit ; one big fellow springing upon a baggage basket, 
where it gets so paralysed with terror, that it remains 
there without moving, and looks so horridly human in 

its distress, that I quite feel for it ; but F gives it 

with his remaining boot a knock that sends it flying 
backwards through the hut, whence it falls on the stones 
below with a ' thud ' that I suspect settles its destiny 
for ever. 

Close to the place where my head reposes, but outside 
the hut, is a nest of mice, from the tiny cadence that 
reaches my ear perpetually. They are evidently engaged 
in very animated conversation, our invasion being pro- 
bably the subject of it ; and I long for daylight to have 
a peep at these interesting little pilgrims of the night. 




ii6 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER XII. 



NOONTIDE IN THE TROPICS. 



At length dawn arrived, as it always will ' if you wait 
for it,' as that astute philosopher Whyte Melville tells 

us, and whilst F still slumbers, I rise, glad to make 

any change after the tedium of the weary night. The 
first thing I do is to search in the direction of my sup- 
posed little family of mice, when I discover that they are 
in truth not mice but bats, which have made themselves 
a snug eyrie beneath the thatch. They are all young and 
hot yet able to fly, but they flutter their clawed wings 
painfully as I gaze at them. They would appear to have 
been deserted by their parents, who are probably fright- 
ened away by our imexpected advent. I watch them for 
a long time, studying the social and domestic habits of 
these little mammiferous creatures, and by the time we 
leave this ' happy valley ' I shall no doubt be able to add 
considerably to the science of natural history ! 

Descending the ladder, I stroll down to the river's 
banks. The ripples, fanned by the faint morning breeze, 
roll over the glittering beach, and gently lap the snow- 
white stones on its margin. A silvery mist hangs over 
the valley, concealing the mountain tops, but is slowly 



THE LITTLE RAFT 117 

rising, and as it does so, it gets held in detached fragments 
by the branches of trees that cover the steeps. As we 
ascend higher and higher, what exquisite bits of soft hazy 
distance are opened out to view, where the winding river 
loses itself behind blue mountains ! The air is filled with 
fragrance, and dew-drops hang from every leaf and spray, 
whilst tender lights, glinting here and there through the 
white pall of vapour, flash and quiver on the tremulous 
water. A party of natives is already being pulled 
across on the little raft I have before mentioned, carry- 
ing quaint-looking loads on their backs. I watch it 
weather the rapids in mid-stream, and reach the opposite 
shore some distance down the river, for the impetuous 
current bears the raft along with it, and it is impossible to 
cross in a direct line. The little band of travellers, bound 
for Thibet, I imagine — for one soon learns to distinguish 
each tribe by its costume — toils up the steep zig-zag 
path : now I see them, now lose them again, as they get 
hidden behind trees ; then higher, where the forest 
ceases, I watch them climbing like a ' string of many- 
coloured spiders,' till they are lost at last in the shadowy 
distance. Close to the place where I am standing, a bear 
and two leopard skins are spread out to dry, a fact very 
suggestive of the living presence of these creatures in 
the jungle around us. They appear to have been shot 
recently, and no doubt were killed by the chowkeydars a 
day or two ago, all of whom, I see, possess fire-arms. 
An hour later I have the satisfaction of seeing our 



ii8 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

breakfast cooked over the camp-fire, consisting of an 
omelette, and the chicken of our dinner ' of discontent 
made glorious' in a rechauffe of some sort. Not a 
little amusing is it to see the heterogeneous collection of 
articles pertaining to the mystery of his art, from a re- 
frigerator to a toasting-fork, which our cook has thought 
proper to bring with him, to meet all the exigencies of the 
journey. We did not think it necessary to bring his 
assistant with us ; but, as he appears to think himself 
too dignified an artist to condescend to the menial part of 
the preparations, three Lepchas, crouching round the fire, 
looking very amiable, but inexpressibly dirty, as I am 
sorry to say they always are, officiate under his direc- 
tion. Summoning up courage, I remonstrate fiercely at 
these proceedings, in the most commanding Hindustani 
I can muster on so short a notice, but failing to make 
myself intelligible I give it up in despair, and have no 
doubt whatever that on the occasion of the breakfast — 
the result of their united efforts — we get through a large 
portion of that element, of which each person is said to 
have a ' peck ' allotted to him in the course of his exist- 
ence. Be this as it may, we did ample justice to the 
repast, and found no cause to complain of the flavour of 
the menu, which we thought was unusually savoury, 
whilst everything about us formed such a contrast to 
our every-day experience, that things which would be 
esteemed as hardships ill to be borne elsewhere, were 
here but a new delight. 



JUNCTION OF THE RUNGHEET AND TEESTA. 119 

We had just completed our repast, when an officer 
from DarjeeHng came riding up, with a guard of armed 
Goorkhas, on his way to Bhootan, to endeavour to dis- 
cover the perpetrators of the murder of a British subject, 
which has recently taken place there. He gladly joined 
us at our repast, after which we watched him and his 
guard cross the bridge one at a time, the ponies being 
made to swim the river, whilst three men standing at the 
opposite side, pulled them over with rattan ropes. 

And now we sally forth ourselves, F shouldering 

his gun, and I his butterfly-net, and we wander back to 
the junction of these two great rivers. Just here the 
gorge widens, and the mountains are less precipitous, but 
all are densely clothed with vegetation to their very sum- 
mits. How^ wonderfully ethereal all looks in the pure 
morning light ! the delicate pinkish white of the sand, as 
well as of the rocks and boulders, which reflect them- 
selves in the water, and cast pearly shadows on the 
shore, combining to create an effect quite opalesque, and 
one that is indescribably refined and beautiful. 

The fog has disappeared entirely by this time, but 
there is a soft thin haze hovering over everything that 
lends sweet mystery to the scene. Here we halt, and 

I essay to make a sketch, whilst F , stretched at full 

length by my side, smokes the calming weed, and occa- 
sionally reads aloud. But all is not as peaceful as might be 
wished, even in this heavenly spot, for he soon finds that 
he has all along been reclining upon an ant-hill, and the 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



little, or rather big creatures here — for they are fully half 
an inch long — are hurrying about in all directions, each 
with an (t^^ in its mouth almost as large as itself, stop- 
ping now and then to have a word or two with a neigh- 
bour on the signs of the times ; and then gathering up 
their eggs, they scamper off again as hard as they can go. 
Peepsas too, an almost invisible black insect, sit upon our 
eyelids, and raise pustules wherever they attack, causing 
great irritation. Bees, attracted by the sweetness of my 
moist colour-pans, get caught in these miniature bogs, 
where they make a woeful buzzing, and then leave their 
legs behind ; whilst flies, which later in the day insist on 
having an undue share of our lunch, walk serenely over 
my mountains, and make blotches in my sky. 

But all these together are, to my mind, as nothing to a 
sketcher's oft experience in England, where, sitting silently 
at your easel in a field or country lane, you are suddenly 
startled by a hot moist blast behind you, and, looking over 
your shoulder, behold an erratic cow, which having 
watched you intently over a hedge for a long time — cows 
always are such inquisitive creatures — breaks through it 
in a vulnerable part, and then determining to have a 
nearer view, wanders up to see what it is all about, 
followed slowly by the whole herd, each as it passes 
blowing on your sketch, threatening to overturn your 
easel, and keeping you in mortal terror all the while. 

The ingenious Lepchas, however, who accompanied 
us to carry my sketching apparatus, rising to the occa- 



NOONTIDE JN THE TROPICS. 



sion, cut down branches and fan us with them, to keep off 
the httle pests I have before mentioned ; and as the sun 
ascends above the summit of the gorge, they lop more 
branches, and with their useful ' bans,' ever at their sides, 
form an arbour for us where we sit, sheltering us com- 
pletely. Then 1 send them off and away, into the distance, 
with instructions to sit upon the white trunk of a tree, 
which has become stranded on a bit of sandy beach yon- 
der, where they come in very prettily in my sketch. 

This done, we clamber up the mountain, through 
tangled brushwood, veiled with creeping ferns and a soft 
network of loveliest green ; our ponies scrambling after 
us with much ado, dislodging pieces of rock and loose 
earth, and hurling the debris upon the luckless heads of 

those who happen to be in the rear. Then F goes 

roaming with his net amidst the trees in quest of butter- 
flies and insects ; and tired by my climb, and wishing to 
rest awhile, I recline in a shady nook, and watch the 
ponies, dainty things ! grazing, or pretending to graze, off 
golden ferns, a few paces from me. 

Looking upwards, attracted by the jubilation of happy 
birds, I observe that each branch and stem of the tall 
forest trees is deeply fringed with hanging moss, the 
appearance of which is very singular, but exceedingly 
lovely withal. And now the sun, rising higher and higher, 
finds its way through thin places in the foliage, and 
obliges me to seek for deeper shade, for the heat grows 
oppressive : the birds cease to carol amongst the branches. 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



and the insects to hum ; the breeze falls to sleep ; the 
leaves whisper together no longer, and noon soon folds all 
Nature to slumber on her warm breast. 

Those who have witnessed noontide slumber only 
in our own land can but faintly realise the strange 
stillness and great universal 'siesta' of the Tropics, where 
at other times throughout the day the air is filled with 
bird and insect life. No sound is heard but the distant 
roar of the river, and now and again that of a little bird 
making a soft dreamy twitter, as it tucks its head more 
tightly under its wing, or a gentle rustle m the dry grass 
caused by a lizard peeping out of its hole, perhaps to see 
what time it is, and then going in to sleep again. The 
lizards in these valleys are not green, but gold and bronze 
— metallic-looking little fellows, with coats of brightest 
mail. Another faint rustle, and a small grey squirrel, 
with its brush striped with black, darts up the tree close 
beside me ; and then all is still, till an hour later, when a 

footstep approaches, and F 's cheery voice awakes 

me from my reverie : he returns, after securing one or two 
valuable additions to his entomological collection ; but the 
poor little captives fluttering about in the cruel net are a 
siofht I never like to see. 

And now, repairing once more to the banks of the 
river where the shade is thickest, we sit and listen to the 
music of its roar. Presently, a short distance up, on the 
opposite side, a deer emerges from the jungle and swims 
across — a 'barking deer' I imagine from its size, with 



NOONTIDE IN TIIE TROPICS. 123 

which these forests abound, so called on account of its 
uttering- a short shrill bark, slightly resembling that of 
a dog ; and when shadows begin to lengthen, we saunter 
back again to our shanty, ankle deep in sand, the pinkish 
colour of which is said to arise from the presence of minute 
atoms of garnet, of which much is found in the rocks. 

On our way we met, and were addressed by, a good- 
looking young Lepcha, carrying a net upon his shoulder, 
who described himself as a butterfly-catcher. Would 
the sahib engage him for the time he was in the valley ? 
he might remunerate him as he pleased, and he would 
capture as many as possible for him. There was some- 
thing so soft and pleasant in his manner, and he seemed 

so anxious to be employed, that F engaged him at 

once, and told him he might join our encampment as 
soon as he chose. 

By the time we reached the bridge, both it and the 
river were shrouded in gloom, but the sinking sun was 
gilding the mountain tops with burnished splendour. 
How beautiful it was to see the blue shadow, like a 
thing of life, slowly ascend the gorge, inch by inch, as the 
sun sank deeper and deeper below the hills, sending up- 
wards a gush of roseate and golden light ! We watch the 
rainbow tints to westward die out one by one, and then 
the moon glides up behind the tree-clad summit of the 
mountain, and pale stars peep forth from the purpling 
sky, their brightness alone dimmed by the lustre of the 
greater light. 



There is, as all know, very little twilight in these lati- 
tudes. As the sun sets, all signs of day quickly fade, and 
the moon on rising shines with a brilliancy and glory Im- 
possible to be imagined by those who have only seen it in 
our more northern hemisphere. After our rustic repast, 
which on this occasion we partake of al-fresco, we cross 
the bridge, and stand for the first time in Bhootan, and 
looking down upon the river, upon which the moon shines 
like a path of silver, we think we have never seen anything 
so lovely as the scene. The woods on either side are 
thrown into the very blackest shade, the jagged outlines of 
the mountains standing out sharp and clear. Half-way 
up our Lepchas' little encampment is situated, and their 
fire burning brightly gleams like a beacon-light. Below, 
close to the water's edge, as if placed there to enhance 
the beauty of the scene, is a picturesque hut. Some 
natives inside have lighted a fire, which, sending up a 
lurid smoke, contrasts curiously with the cold moonlight ; 
whilst the glare of the fire reflecting itself in the river, 
and the natives' dusky figures against it, throwing gro- 
tesque shadows, produce a wonderfully Rembrandt-like 
effect, and the whole forms a picture so exquisite, that 
even Turner, in his most extravagant moods, could scarcely 
have idealised it. 

We sit long in the balmy air, drinking in its evening 
freshness as it comes wafted towards us along the 
valley ; whilst the moon, which looks down upon us with 
her tranquil placid face, rides majestically in the star- 



bespangled heavens. All is peaceful, and a feeling of 
intense tranquillity and happiness steals over us, in har- 
mony with the surrounding scene, and the perfect solitude 
and absence of the din of tumultuous life. We seem cut 
off ahke from past and future, poised as it were in some 
intermediate present, that bears no part in our real lives ; 
and wishing I could but hold it fast, I pause, and wonder 
whether, as it passes, I suck out all its honied sweetness. 

But already deep schemes and dark designs are 
being laid for a railway from the plains to this lovely 
valley. O ye shades primeval ! figiLvcz-vous a troop of 
English engineers invading thy fastnesses, and the shrill 
practical whistle of a locomotive resounding through thy 
solitudes, which may heaven beneficent forfend I 

By this time the swarthy natives in the little hut 
below, having cooked and eaten their evening meal, are 
fast asleep, their recumbent forms just visible in the flic- 
kering firelight ; whilst the crackling of the wood as it 
slowly burns away, the soft lap-lap of the water as it 
gently laves the banks beside us, and its more distant 
roar, are the only sounds that break the stillness, and 
make it live, except now and then the melancholy chaunt 
of a Lepcha, proceeding from their encampment above, 
abrupt, fragmentary, and always in the minor key. But 
a little later, this too gradually subsides, as wakefulness 
gives place to slumber, and the night-bird once more 
begins its plaint. 

Then, before retiring ourselves, we improvise a door 



126 THE INDIAN AIPS. 



to our habitation. During the day, branches had been 
thickly interlaced to cover the apertures on all sides, in 
the hope of excluding- our visitors of the previous night. 
Besides this, the Lepchas with ruthless hand had 
routed out my little family of bats, for on my return this 
evening, I descried the lifeless bodies of the slain lying 
on the sands below, which had all the appearance of a 
miniature battle-field. 

There would consequently seem to be a probability of 
our obtaining a better night's rest, and I lie down with 
something like a feehng of security, listening, however 
— for who could help it ? — to a native in the distance, 
who, provoking wretch ! having had his own first sleep, 
now turns night into day as the manner of these people is, 
and, musically inclined, begins playing a rather lively air 
on a little pipe or flute, which these hill people rudely 
manufacture from the small bamboo cane. 

From the direction of the sound, I imagine it must 
proceed from the amiable shepherd who supplies us with 
milk, and who is perhaps serenading us from his sylvan 
retreat, as Pan of old might have done. I fall asleep at 
length, and dream that that god of herdsmen, horns and 
hoofs, in orthodox array, is sitting on the ladder, while he 
endeavours to enchant Selene, goddess of night, with the 
music of his reeds. So near sounds the pastoral melody 
in my sleep, that either it or my dream awakes me ; but 
all is still, and I hope devoutly that our shepherd's pipe is 
put out for the remainder of the night. 



jy£ MEET WITH STRANGE BEDEELLOWS. 



127 



Sleep, however, except of the most disturbed and 
intermittent kind is out of the question, for, in spite of our 
precautions, vv^ater-rats invade us in as great numbers as 
before, finding their way through the interstices of the floor, 
which it did not occur to us to stop up. We therefore 
pass another very waHike night in hurhng at them all 
the missiles on which we can lay our hands ; but do not 
succeed in routing the enemy, who reinforce themselves 
perpetually. At last, worn out by our exertions, we sur- 
render, and rolling ourselves up in our respective rugs, 
make a strong mental resolve that it shall be our last 
night's acceptance of the inhospitable shelter of this little 
roof-tree, and that we will make other arrangements for 
the morrow. 




XM^^^"^^^ ' 



128 THE INDIAN A IPS. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

WE CHANGE OUR QUARTERS. 

Our people's encampment was situated about 300 feet 
up the mountain, wliere overhanging rocks formed their 

only shelter. Thither F hied at peep of day, whilst 

the remembrance of the night's miseries was still fresh 
upon him. It was a stiff climb for a lowlander to accom- 
plish ; but once there, having chosen a spot that appeared 
suitable for the purpose, he ordered a leaf-hut to be 
made without delay. Having their materials everywhere 
around them, all were soon engaged in lopping branches 
and preparing stout bamboo stakes for poles, the trunks 
of two trees answering the purpose for the back of the hut, 
against which smaller bamboos, placed horizontally, were 
tied together with the tendrils of climbers, which hung from 
each tree in long serpent-like coils. Between all, boughs 
were tightly interlaced ; and in little more than two hours' 
time, a habitation, about as comfortable and snug as one 
could desire in these latitudes, was not only built, but 
furnished with little benches and tables made of bamboo, 
split into pieces, till it had quite the appearance of a 
permanent abode. 



THE USES OF THE BAMBOO. 129 

The many uses to which this tree is appHed by the 
natives of India, forcibly remind me of the cacao-nut 
pahii of Ceylon. ' Man wants but little here below ; ' 
and a happy pair of Cingalese have only to ' squat ' under 
half-a-dozen cacao-nut trees, to find all their wants sup- 
plied. Its fruit forms their meat and drink ; its leaves 
roof their hut ; from its fibre they weave a fabric which 
clothes them ; the shells of the fruit form both their 
drinking and cooking utensils ; from the bark of the 
tree, sewn together, they construct little boats, in which 
they paddle about the swamps, and snare wild-fowl. And 
so with the bamboo. The Lepchas can almost subsist 
on the young shoots, which they stew in one of its own 
tubes : it forms, in some shape or other, their entire 
abode. By rubbing two pieces of it sharply together, they 
produce fire ; paper is made from the leaves and sheaths, 
after they have been steeped in water and reduced 
to a pulp ; from the canes, split into thin strips, baskets 
of various kinds are made, and a hundred other 
things ; there being scarcely anything for which it is 
not used. 

Our leaf-hut proves not only more comfortable, 
but even more picturesque than the little one we have 
deserted, on the roof of which we look down, whilst 
our present view is far more extended, and everything 
around is passing lovely, calm, tranquil, and serene. Some 
little distance along the side of the mountain, whither I 
soon wandered, a view of the Junction could be obtained ; 



and it was curious at this distance to observe the hne of 
demarcation between the waters of the Rungheet and 
those of the Teesta, the one so transparent and green, 
the other so milky white. Very wonderful to look down 
upon was the meeting of these two great rivers, which 
tear along in different directions, and then join in one. 
How the ancient Hindoos would have fabled them in 
their mythology ! 

Here I decide to take up my position for the day and 

sketch, whilst F , who is suffering acutely from lepi- 

doptera on the brain, — accompanied by the butterfly 
Lepcha, starts immediately after breakfast, armed with 
his net for a long roam through the Teesta valley. 
The air is cooler here, and insect life consequently 
less abundant ; but the flowers, on the contrary, are in- 
creased tenfold in number and beauty, many of the 
climbers and orchids being in full bloom. One of the 
former hangs in large clusters of snowy whiteness above 
my head, with thick cup-shaped, wax-like petals, filled 
with luscious perfume, together with another of the 
legiLmiiious order, not unlike the Wisteria in form, but 
of richest crimson, hanging a foot and a half in length. 
Bees are abundant, although peepsas and insects of 
the smaller kind are absent ; but finding more honey 
than they did in the valley, they do not so determinedly 
invade my moist colour-pans in search of sweetness, and 
having over-eaten themselves long before noon, lie 
dozing in the flower chalices, where they keep up a sub- 



JF£ CHANGE OUR QUARTERS. 131 

dued but contented brm, brm, brm, as though they were 
snoring. Dragon-flies occasionally play at hide and 
seek, but do not trouble me, with the exception of one 
intrusive fellow, that flits about my block ; but I smite 
him on the head with the handle of my brush, at which 
he gets him away right humbly. There was, indeed, 
such a gush of loveliness around me all the day, that I 
felt I could sit and breathe my very life away, it all 
seemed so heavenly. 

What a beautiful world is ours ! Who would think — 
not knowing — that it is so hard and sad a one, for some 
to live in. Ay, hard and sad. A world where there 
are rocks ahead, and unseen reefs, and adverse winds 
and tides, and stormy breakers, all too mighty for the 
frail little crafts that are sometimes launched upon its 
tempestuous ocean, and ' whose waters of deep woe are 
often brackish with the salt of human tears.' Cannot one 
read it in the countenances of two out of every six 
persons one meets, where the whole is written in deep 
lines as in a chart ? There are the ' tackings ' to and fro, 
the adverse winds and tides, those days of doubt, de- 
spondency and gloom, when they could take no bearings ; 
for their sun was dimmed in heaven, the moon gave no 
light, and the very stars refused to shine — those ' four- 
teen nights' of agonising suspense, when they 'cast 
four anchors out of the stern, and wished for the day ; ' — 
those stormy weeks when the little vessel was driven up 
and down before the wind, under double-reefed topsails ; 



132 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

those days when, with rudder tied, she was ' hove to ' in 
a gale ; that awful moment when she grazed a rock, 
which did not wreck her quite, but stunned and struck 
her backwards with such crushing force, that each 
plank quaked and trembled from stem to stern, fol- 
lowed by that ominous pause — that lull, worse than the 
shock itself, ere she rose once more, and went bounding 
over the billows. There are the days, too, when the 
breakers heaved so high, that they broke over her decks, 
threatening each moment to swamp and bury her in the 
deep ; and there is that one great cruel wave which 
swept all before it, and did well-nigh engulph her, carrying 
with it her 'tackling' — the little nothings, 'trifles light 
as air,' round which some sweet remembrance clung, it 
may be, of days now long ago, that pet thing, that idol, 
dearer far than life itself — all, all torn from it, washed 
away, leaving it a sullen, gloomy-looking hull, to float 
on with bare poles for evermore. Then that hurricane, 
when she became almost a wreck, and was ' picked up,' 
rescued, towed in by another vessel passing by — saved 
by the outstretched hand of a friend, or by a Mightier 
than human hand ; for an Unseen Guardian was standing^ 
at the prow, leading it through waves of sorrow ini- 
that haven where it ' would be,' gathering it into tha< 
anchorage, both sure and steadfast, where there will ^-^ 
no more tossings to and fro, for ' the wicked cease irom 
troubling, and the weary are at rest.' ,Oh ! never do I 
see a dear old weather-beaten, wrinkled, time-worn face, 



1 MEET WITH A SURPRISE. 133 



but I think it is man's own log-book, of which he himself 
holds the key. 

And sitting here busily sketching, I was led to 
ponder much on the manner in which things animate 
take their tone from external nature, and of the great 
universal harmony which exists in every thing, and how 
different, for instance, is the merry chirp of the feathered 
tribe, flitting about in the sunshine, to the dolorous plaint 
of the night-bird. Then the dreamy hours of noon- 
tide falling, I, too, subsided at last into what F calls 

one of my ' brown studies,' whilom thinking of Lattoo, 
whilom of nothino; at all, when that litde aneel's wino-s 
suddenly appeared before me. 

' Why, Lattoo ! ' I exclaimed, ' where have you sprung 
from, and why in the world did you come all this way to 
see me ?' For she looked hot, and tired, and dishevelled 
and out of breath, and must, I imagined, have walked 
at least twenty miles to find me. 

' Not far, mem sahib, not far,' she replied ; ' me come 
down by that mountain, and through that waiter thar! 

And then, on her recalling it to my remembrance, I 
recollected having passed a broad stream on our way to 
■lie Teesta junction, the day we arrived, which no doubt 
ivas the Rungnoo ; and she had probably only walked 
-^ "^ew miles, these mountains and valleys being very 
pu2z.Ung to those who are ignorant of their windings. 

She had been over into Sikkim, to her mother's sister 
she told me, and on her return last night, seeing Atchoo, 



134 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

who had been to Darjeeling, and heard where we were, 
had decided to come down at once, not only to see me, 
but to supphcate to be taken into my service as ayah, 
for the purpose of accompanying me on our long journey 
to the ' Interior.' In explanation of her sudden dis- 
appearance, she confided to me the fact that there had 
been a great tumasha (row) at her home. One night the 
bears had come down and eaten the young ears of Indian 
corn, and otherwise Injured the crops ; and Atchoo hap- 
pening to be ' loafing ' about, at an inopportune moment, 
the old man, unusually Irritated, had kicked him off the 
premises, calling him opprobrious names, an indignity 
Lattoo resented on his account, and father and daughter 
came to high words, upon which she determined to leave 
home for good ; but relenting — for this singular girl could 
be as ferocious as a young tigress at one time, and as 
gentle as a gazelle at another — she returned, all sorrow 
and repentance, on the eighth day of absence. 

' How soon are you going to marry, Lattoo ?' I en- 
quired, still going on with my sketch. 

' Marry, mem sahib, marry ! How can me marry ?' 

' Well, you are surely engaged, or betrothed, or what- 
ever you call it In your language. Atchoo thinks you 
will marry him some day. You would not deceive him ; 
he loves you, Lattoo.' 

' Yes, he loves me ; poor Atchoo ! ' she rejoined, pen- 
sively. 

'And do not you love him too ? ' 



LATTOO ASKS ME TO TAKE HER WITH ME. 135 

'Yes, mem sahib, souictiuk, but \\\y f adder \\^ kill me, 
if I marry a Lepcha man.' 

This, doubtless, was conclusive, and I said no more 
about the matter. She assured me, however, that her 
father had given her permission to ask me to engage her 
as my ayah ; but fond as I was of her, I must say I had 
very strong misgivings as to whether she would make a 
good servant. Moreover, I did not intend to take a 
maid with me, although I anticipated great inconve- 
nience in the absence of one. I believed I had no right 
to subject another woman to the hardships of road and 
climate to which I had voluntarily committed myself; 
and to do so would necessitate considerable additional 
expense, involving an extra tent, as well as obliging us 
to furnish her with some mode of conveyance. But 
here was one who proposed taking all the risk of the 
journey upon herself. She was able to encounter the 
difficulties of the way, and my responsibility was at an 
end. I had not asked her to come ; it was her own pro- 
position. As I looked at her, a bright gleam of sun- 
shine, glinting through the leaves, played upon her head, 
and lingered there as though it loved it. How pretty 
she was, and what deep rich colouring there was about 
her ; she might have been a model for a Madonna di 
Raffaello. She possessed, too, one of those charming little 
faces that the French call mobile, one that can be all 
smiles and dimples and blushes and tears in an instant. 
How often I could paint her when I had her all to myself 



136 THE INDIAN AIFS. 

in my tent. It was a great temptation, and she begged so 
earnestly to be allowed to accompany me, that I said, 
' Well, Lattoo, I will, at any rate, consult the sahib about it' 

But I did not expect the sahib back till the shades of 
evening would be closing over us, for he had taken a 
' nose-bag ' with him, filled with creature comforts, and I 
was not to look for him, he told me, till dinner-time ; and, 
once started, he would wander far, I knew. So telling 
her that she might return to-morrow, and remain with me 
as long as we were here, I ordered my pony to be saddled, 
and the blue line beginning to creep up the mountain, 
I rode back with her, along the banks of the Teesta 
and Rungheet, till we reached a narrow gorge, through 
which a shallow stream trickled and emptied itself into 
the great river ; when, taking off her gay-coloured mo- 
cassins, she stepped at once into the middle of the 
stream, the banks being too rocky to admit of her doing 
otherwise, and went her way. 

Reining in my pony, I stood watching the svelte and 
graceful little figure tripping over the stones, and listen- 
ing to the plash of her footfall, as she waded through 
the water, till she disappeared behind a bold rock at the 
head of the gorge, whither the river winding got lost 
to view. Long before reaching the bridge on my home- 
ward way, I heard F 's voice echoing along the 

Teesta valley, shouting to announce his speedy return. 

The next morning Lattoo presented herself, her face 
all radiant with smiles, and figure brilliant in a dress of 



ORCHIDS. 137 

red, blue, and orange. F , to whom I had confided 

my invitation to her, ordered our men forthwith to 
make a little leaf-hut for her, near to our own, which, 
by the way, proved a complete success. Nothing came 
to disturb our slumbers, and, as the bulletins say, we 
'passed a calm and tranquil night' 

The time sped only too swiftly, each day bringing its 
pleasant incident. Sometimes we made long excursions 
up or down the valley in quest of ferns for pressing, and 
orchids for hanging in the verandah of our mountain 
home. The best plan to obtain the latter is to peel away 
the bark of the tree to which they are attached, when 
they will bloom each year as in their natural habitat, re- 
quiring no water or any attention whatever, but solely to 
be allowed to breathe the air of heaven, and only coveting 
to be loved and admired as all fair things do Sometimes 

F accompanied me on these expeditions, sometimes 

Lattoo and I went alone, occasionally crossing the Rung- 
heet bridge — a much smaller one than that of the Teesta, 
but also a marvel of cane-work and engineering skill. 
Beyond this the mountain slope for some distance is 
clothed with tall pines, resembling the Scotch fir, and 
it is singular to observe anything so like the vegetation 
of our own isles growing in combination with that of 
the tropics : but it is here only, I believe, in all these 
valleys that they are seen. 

'Mem sahib!' exclaimed one of my attendant Lep- 
chas one day, as I sat making a sketch, with Lattoo by 

T 




138 THE INDIAN AIPS. 



my side — ' how many rupees will you get for that 
taswir ? ' 

' Nothing-,' I replied, ' I paint because it pleases me.' 

'What!' he rejoined, with a look in which both 
astonishment and pity were mingled — * nothing ! I 
thought it was your bickree'' (trade). 

They are such a thoroughly indolent people them- 
selves, that they find it difficult to realise any one's work- 
ing for mere pleasure or amusement. And this remark 
reminded me of that of a Rajah, who, being present at a 
ball, at a period when English customs were not so well 
known in India as they are now, exclaimed, on seeing 
English ladies dance for the first time, ' Can it be pos- 
sible that these are ladies dancing ? I thought they were 
nautch-girls. We always hire people to dance for us.' 

In some places the Lepchas are burning portions of 
the forest to clear the land for cultivation ; and at night it 
was a wondrous and awful sight to see the flame stalking 
along like a hungry and insatiable demon, destroying all 
it touched, and with its eager tongue lapping up the 
goodly trees — the bamboos, being hollow, yielding to the 
force of the fierce element with loud explosions like that 
of cannon, from the expansion of confined air ; and the 
burning of one of these spreading clumps, often more 
than twenty feet in height, reminded me of the final 
burst of rockets at a pyrotechnic display, whilst the noise 
was perfectly deafening. 

At night too, we often watch our people set bamboo 



MERCHANT TRAVELLERS FROM BJIOOTAN. 139 

traps for fish, which generally forms our breakfast the fol- 
lowing morning. Various kinds arc found in these 
rivers, one of which, the maha-seer, is exceedingly nice ; 
and there is also another, the flavour of which is not un- 
like trout. The Lepchas invariably cook their fish in the 
hollow of a bamboo, which they plunge into hot wood 
ashes, where it is allowed to seethe till tender. 

The pathway along the margin of the river Teesta 
being the high road to Bhootan, between which and Ben- 
gal a considerable trade is carried on, we frequently make 
friends with the parties of wayfarers bivouacking here, 
and induce them to show us their wares, sometimes mak- 
ing extensive purchases, F , amongst other things, 

collecting yak tails, one of their articles of commerce. 
Of these tails a kind of brush is made, often mounted in 
silver, and much used in riding, for the purpose of switch- 
ing off flies. They are very long, covered with rich 
glossy wool almost like silk, and are of three colours, 
black, white, and grey. At no hour of the day can one 
walk very far in this valley without lighting on a num- 
ber of travellers, their picturesque packs lying beside 
them ; one party alone consisting frequently of as many 
as ten or fifteen men. Choosing a shady place a little 
distance from the main pathway, and collecting together 
a heap of large stones, they construct a rude fire-place, 
in the centre of which they pile wood, and then pro- 
ceed to cook their food in a large earthen pot, generally 
consisting of rice mixed with 'ghee.' They also make a 



140 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



tough cake with the flour of Indian corn, and bake it 
in the cinders ; and after the meal, each man may be 
seen with his iron pipe silently smoking. Their looks 
belie them, for they are a wonderfully peaceful and quiet 
people, in spite of their formidable appearance, some of 
them attaining a height of more than six feet, all broad- 
chested and muscular, with Tartar features, the eye small 
with long pointed corners, whilst long knives hang from 
their belts. They always seem pleased, too, when we 
stop and address them, not one in return for our intru- 




sion in their midst giving us even a surly glance. But 
our conversation with them is not carried on in a par- 
ticularly lively manner, the Bhootia language being a 
dialect of Thibetan, more or less blended with words and 



BH007IA MERCHANDISE. 141 

idioms of the countries on which it borders. Bhootan 
itself is an extensive region of Northern Hindu- 
stan, lying between Bengal and Thibet, separated from 
the latter country by the Himalaya, and forming the 
southern portion of the declivity of that stupendous 
Alpine chain, of which Thibet forms the table-land, 
touching Assam on the east, and called by the Hindoos, 
BJwte. 

The principal manufacture of the country is paper, 
made from the bark of a tree, the Daphne papyrifei^a, 
from which a kind of satin is also made, much worn 
by the Chinese. Coarse woollen and linen cloths are 
also manufactured there, the chief articles of export being 
ivory, musk, rock salt, tobacco, gold dust, and silver 
ingots. The trade, however, is a monopoly in the hands 
of the government, the Deb Rajah sending companies 
of men laden with these articles every year to the Bengal 
Presidency. 

In addition to their heavy loads, each man carries on a 
little light, and I suspect contraband, trading on his own 
account, his pouch formed by the loose robe above the 
girdle being full of small objects of merchandise — idols, 
pieces of ivory, barbs for arrows, musk, assafoetida, spices, 
tobacco, opium, dried fruit ; a pair of forceps, a wooden 
comb, and other toilet arrangements, occasionally even 
gunpowder. As they pull one thing after another out 
of their pockets, they often laugh heartily over the 
heterogeneous collection spread before us. Sometimes 



142 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

they carry Thibetan puppies for sale ; little fat round 
balls covered with long fluffy wool ; flat-faced like the 

people, and with eyes keen and deep-set. But F 

is more interested in their weapons than in aught else. 
These vary in shape, and are frequently enclosed in very 
beautiful scabbards ; their knives, in most instances, being 
short and curved. To each of these is attached a steel 
for striking light, a needle-case, a smaller knife, and pair 
of forceps, every one of these articles having its own 
little leather case. They also carry arrows, the barbs of 
which are dipped in a poison taken from a tree unknown 
to Europeans, and about which they are very reticent, 
never divulging its name under any circumstances. These 
arrows, together with their knives and falchions, form 
their only weapons in war. Having spent nearly a week 
in this * happy valley,' we start on the morrow for a short 
trip into their country. 



IV£ C/iOSS OVER INTO J3H00TAN. 143 



CHAPTER XIV. 

WE CROSS OVER INTO BHOOTAN, AND TAKE A LITTLE 
HEALTHFUL EXERCISE. 

Very fair broke the morn. Lo ! eastward the sun, just 
rising above the mountain tops, began, Hke a magician's 
wand, to irradiate all nature with hues of eold and azure. 
Rapidly the line of shadow crept down the mountain 
slopes, till sky, and forest, and tremulous water were 
bathed in its effulgence, and all the valley wore a smile. 

After a hasty breakfast, singly and severally we crossed 
the bridge, and found mules awaiting us, which were 
ordered some days ago from a place in Bhootan. Most 
astounding and overwhelming animals they were, their 
accoutrements so massive that they might, and possibly 
did, originally belong to Budh himself, the saddle alone 
taking one back to primeval time, the mules themselves 
nearly bald, and their tails bereft of hair except at the 
extreme tip, where a little shaggy tuft — a relic of past 
glory — still lingered. 

It was some time before we could attempt to mount 
them, so convulsed with laughter were we over the sight of 
the tatterdemalion and quaintly caparisoned quadrupeds 



144 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

which were waiting to convey us ; and when at last we 
were in our saddles, we nearly fell off again from the 
same cause. At length, having recovered our compo- 
sure, we commenced the ascent of the gorge ; and I 
only wish our friends at home could have witnessed our 
grotesque cavalcade. Before us walked our muleteers, 
behind followed a native, also on mule-back, carrying a 
rusty match-lock, the first thing in all probability ever 
made in the shape of fire-arms. In the matter of dress, 
however, he was quite resplendent, and looked a com- 
promise between a Fire-worshipper of old and an 
Effendi of the * Arabian Nights,' for he wore an impos- 
ing turban of blue and gold, wound round a conical cap 
of faded red, with large heavy flaps covering the ears, 
and a blue cloth coat, whilst a scarlet ' cummerbund ' en- 
circled the waist. 

A zig-zag path had been worn away in the hard dry 
soil by travellers climbing with heavy loads, and this path 
we, as well as the Lepchas, who were laden with stores, 
followed ; but the rest of our party, scrambling up the 
almost perpendicular face of the mountain, were already 
far above us. It was a frightful climb truly for man and 
beast, but what superb and glorious views we obtained 
of mountain and river as we gradually ascended ! 

All rivers are said to ' wind like a silver thread.' I 
wish I could say that mine did not. I wish I could say 
that the Teesta shot like a silver arrow, or wound like a 
green ribbon, or foamed like a mighty torrent — anything 



JV£ C/^OSS OVER INTO BIIOOTAN. 145 

but the conventional simile, but I cannot : there it is be- 
neath me, flowing along like the veritable silver thread, 
with this exception, that it did not merely wind, I am 
thankful to say it did more, it meandered ; whilst the 
bridge and our little homestead, distanced into microscopic 
dimensions, looked like Swiss toys. As we ascended 
higher, parasites festooning each branch in rich garlands 
enclosed wondrous pictures of blue mountain and crystal 
peak in a natural framework of leaves ; and after a hard 
climb of several thousand feet, occupying seven hours, we 
breathed a purer and more bracing atmosphere, and 
reached Kallmpoong. 

Here we find a very capacious and clean hut, of a 
more substantial description, erected some months ago for 
that most excellent of men. Major M , Deputy Com- 
missioner of Darjeeling, who was then travelling in this 
district. Our servants and party of Lepchas have this time 
not only arrived, but have made two large camp-fires in 
readiness for us — a cheering sight, for the air is keen and 
nipping after the heat of the valley. There is an abun- 
dance of dry wood lying about in the neighbouring forest, 
and dragging along huge logs, they heap one upon an- 
other till they reach several feet in height, and look like 
funereal pyres. 

Not only Lattoo and our servants, but even the poor 
heavily laden Lepchas also, gathered every new flower 
and fern they met with on their way hither, and spread 
them out before us on our arrival, till we found ourselves 

u 




146 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



surrounded by a carpet of flowers. They have also 
adorned themselves with them, having one stuck in each 
ear, the flower they most favour being that of the Lotus- 
tree. But F does not find the ' butterfly Lepcha ' as 

energetic as he might be in the practice of his art. He 
has found no new specimens for two days, but seems 
rather to spend his time in talking to Lattoo ; and one 
would suppose that this individual imagined that Lepi- 
doptera were only to be found in her immediate neigh- 
bourhood, so closely does he follow her about. 

In the course of an hour we are ensfasfed in the con- 
sumption of a very prosaic and substantial dinner ; and 

I think it would as- 
tonish the great Soyer 
himself, to see the 
repast these native 
cooks can serve when 
camping out. What 
' savoury messes,' de- 
licious curries, soups, 
and appetising stews ! 
A few round holes 
made in the ground, 
filled with charcoal, 
and there is scarcely anything they cannot produce. 

Half a mile further on is a small guard-post, some 
four or five native police being stationed there. With 
this exception, the vast wild with which we are sur- 




KALIMPOONG. 147 



rounded is wholly unpeopled. Not a sound is heard as 
we sit by our camp-fire in the solemn stillness, feeling 
absolutely alone in the great heart of Nature, for our poor 
tired folk are recumbent and fast asleep, round their own 
fire, fifty yards off. Beneath our feet lies the valley of the 
Teesta, from which a ghostly streak of vapour is rising, 
gathering up into soft cumuli as it slowly ascends, and 
obscuring the outlines of the nearer mountains. 

From this elevation we aLrain catch sieht of the 
Snowy Range, though only of the loftiest peaks in 
Thibet, Kinchinjunga, as well as the whole of the 
Sikkim Himalaya, being hidden by the forest-clad moun- 
tains to our left ; but these we hope to see again to-morrow 
from a totally different aspect, and from a much higher 
point than Darjeeling. 

It is a sweet starry evening, and the vast mountains, 
which, as the song says, are ' so near and yet so far,' are 
veiled in a soft transparent mist. Not a breath stirs the 
forest, for the breeze died away hours ago with the setting 
sun ; nothing seems to live but the twinkling stars, and 
a solitary fire-fly, which has wandered up from the warm 
valley, probably to see the sun set upon the mountains, 
and is unable to find its way back again with its tiny lamp. 

There is something sublimely awful in the solitude 
and isolation of this great sanctuary of Nature ; we seem 
to be in some other, purer world. As I shut my eyes, 
the air seems peopled with the shadowy forms of dear 
ones long since gone to rest, — the little band who have 



crossed the dark valley and the troubled sea, and reached 
the peaceful shore beyond. Gentle eyes look once more 
into mine, loving hands press my own, the past is again 
before me, with all its sad and pleasant memories, when 
we are startled by an apparition, as suddenly appearing 
as Mephistopheles at the bidding of Faust. A Gnome 
or Earth-spirit he might be, so silently has he stolen 
upon us. But a sudden gleam of fire-light shows him 
to be none other than a very weird and uncanny-looking 
creature in the flesh. He is almost entirely clad in fur, 
and presents two fine bear skins for sale, as well as a 
young bear which he is leading. But we decline to enter 
into negociations for either, at which he seems much 
disappointed, and as far as we can gather from mute 
language, carried on through the medium of gesticulation, 
he is sounding the praises of the little Bruin : he takes 
him in his arms, folds him to his bosom, and does all he 
can to demonstrate his docile and affectionate disposition ; 
but we have already possessed tame bears, and juvenile 
leopards too, and have no wish to make a further 
acquaintance with them ; and the ' voice of the charmer ' 
failing to make any impression upon us, he disappears 
as suddenly and mysteriously as he came. 

Then we stroll along in the direction of the forest, 
and pass our servants' camp. The Lepchas and Maho- 
medans — the latter being men of caste — ^have each a 
separate shelter to themselves, made of large boughs 
hastily thrown together and supported by stakes. Rolled 



PHOSPHORESCENT LIGHT. 149 



up tightly in their ' sarees,' or rugs, in such a manner as 
to display every outline of the face and figure, and lying 
at full length side by side, they look exactly like mummies. 

In the dark portions of the forest where the moon's 
rays do not penetrate, our attention is arrested by a pale 
phosphorescent light, and perhaps this is one of the most 
singular phenomena of the Himalayas ; a walk at night 
near the woods, which are sometimes a-glow with it, 
being sufficient to excite a sense of the supernatural, even 
in minds the most practical and prosaic, for the dead trees, 
which are scattered everywhere, are covered with this 
blue flame, which, increasing and decreasing with every 
motion of the wind, looks very ghostly in the ' stilly night,' 
requiring but slight exercise cf the imagination on the part 
of the observer to fancy that it assumes shape and form. 
I remember not long ago walking into a dark room at 
Darjeeling, and being startled at seeing a mass of blue 
light flickering in a corner. At that time I had not heard 
of this phenomenon, but on going to fetch a candle and 
returning with one, I found that it proceeded from a 
quantity of decayed wood placed there for the morrow's 
fire. It is, I believe, either during or after the rainy 
season that it is most seen. 

The following morning, after a very comfortable and 
undisturbed night's rest, and after having given silent 
thanks to Him, who watched over us during the helpless 
hours of slumber, we stand outside the hut waiting for 
our mules, which are to carry us on to Dumsong, a native 



I50 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



settlement in Bhootan. The shed of the mules is not far 
distant, and we can see it from the verandah of our hut ; 
but they manifest such a strong determination not to 
leave it, that at one moment our departure seemed more 
than doubtful, and it is only by means of physical force 
brought to bear upon them by the muleteers that they 




A// 



are induced to advance at last ; the above being a faithful 
sketch made of that interesting tableau whilst stand- 
ing intently watching their proceedings. But once at our 

side, F after much difficulty succeeded in getting me 

into my saddle, but scarcely mounted himself with that 
facility which, as an old equestrian, he had every right 
to expect. 

Once mounted, however, we do manage somehow 
to make a start ; but they only back us the very next 
moment to the extreme edge of the ' khud ' — vide end 
of chapter (sketch from memory, made whilst sitting on a 



OUR MULES. 151 



portmanteau at the close of journey) — and it is no- 
thing short of a miracle that we are not precipitated 
over it into the abyss, three thousand feet below. In 
coming here yesterday, they were on their homeward 
road, besides which they were ascending the whole time, 
so that we had no opportunity of testing their delightful 
attributes on level ground. 

But off at last, we pass through scenery the character 
of which changes completely. Instead of dense forests, 
we traverse undulating wolds, a wild waste of country, 
surrounded by precipitous mountains, here picturesquely 
wooded, there torn up by deep gullies and ravines. The 
principal rocks in these mountains are granite and an 
imperfect quartz, the latter having the appearance of 
marble, which is much used in the manufacture of a kind of 
porcelain. It is conjectured that these mountain ranges 
contain considerable mineral wealth ; but iron and copper 
are the only metals hitherto discovered, of which iron is the 
only one as yet applied to much purpose by the natives. 
And now entering a stratum of mist, we try to make 
the muleteers lead our steeds, for the path being narrow 
and rough, it is no easy matter to guide them ourselves 
in the blinding fog; but they are so utterly obtuse, that 
by no means in our power can we make them understand 

what we mean. At last F , having lost all patience, 

dismounts to give them ocular demonstration ; but they 
only gaze at him with mouths and eyes wide open, and 
seem more bewildered than before. I really believe that 



152 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



Mr. Darwin might here find the ' missing Hnk,' and nurse 
his pet theory to his heart's content. But the mist soon 
clears, fortunately — it was only a cloud passing over us 
— and the sun, again shining, creates a world of beauty 
and grandeur out of the dim chaos of a few minutes 
before. But what torturing, agonising creatures are our 
mules — large bony animals of a roughness of action 
positively inconceivable to the uninitiated. 

Passing over tolerably level ground, we now try to 
quicken our pace, but our incorrigible animals kick 







violently at the slightest touch of the whip. To these 
little manifestations of temper we should have no ob- 
jection whatever, if they would only go on when they 
were over ; but no amount of persuasion will induce 
them to canter for an instant, whilst, if we merely zualk 



them, it will be impossible to reach Dumsong before mid- 
night. We are therefore obliged to accept their conven- 
tional and conservative jog-trot pace, as the inevitable. 
Moreover, the bridle and bit we long ago discovered to 
be purely ornamental accessories, possibly intended to 
give them a war-like appearance, for they heed neither ; 
and we find that the only way of making them move at 
all — for they soon tire of trotting, and break into a walk 
— is to tug violently at the reins as if to pull them in, 
when they make spasmodic efforts to go on. Not unfre- 
quently the breath gets so thoroughly knocked out of us, 
that we are obliged to stop to recover a little strength, 
to enable us to endure manfully to the end ; but when 
jogging on, what torture it is to stop them, and when 
reined in, what dislocation to get them on again ! I defy 
the temper of an angel to stand the test of a ride on a 
Himalayan mule. We try to comfort ourselves, however, 
by the consideration that we are ' doing ' Bhootan ■ — but, 
in spite of this consoling reflection, we should no doubt 
long ago have given them up as hopeless, and returned 
in peace and quiet to the valley, had not our men gone 
on, not only with our baggage, but, alas ! with all our pro- 
visions also, and we needs must follow. 

As we went on thus for two agonising hours, the 
ground began to wear a look of cultivation, and we soon 
came upon the evidence of man's presence, as shown in 
smiling patches of millet, buckwheat, and Indian-corn, 
enclosing neat homesteads, thatched with bamboo, with 



X 



154 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

overhanging roofs, from which hung bunches of Indian- 
corn drying in the sun. In the balconies the women 
of the family could be seen busily occupied in weaving 
or spinning. But our approach causes much consterna- 
tion, if not alarm : one and all run into their huts, whence 
they peer at us through the apertures in the mud walls, 
or eye us askance through the doorways ; whilst one old 
woman, whom we met on the road, raced back a long 
way, till she was quite out of breath and unable to run 
any further, when, climbing a steep bank, she looked 
down upon us with a perfectly scared expression, as 
though she had seen a ghost. 

Passing more fields of millet and buckwheat, waving 
gently in the breeze, we again leave all trace of human 
habitation behind, and enter an undulating forest, so 
dense that the light of day is almost excluded. Birds, 
roused from their solitary haunts, scurry away, rising with 
a whr-r-r, and flutter and screech, evidently resenting this 
unusual intrusion in their midst. Ascending and descend- 
ing very steep gradients, F , after various misad- 
ventures, deserts his noble steed entirely and walks ; for 
not only was the saddle destitute of crupper, but some- 
thing had gone hopelessly wrong with the whole ma- 
chinery, so that, when going up hill, he was threatened to 
be shot over the animal's back, and when going down, in 
a scarcely less ignominious manner, he was in danger of 
being precipitated over its neck; till, coming to an un- 
usually steep descent, he did at last roll over on the 



IF£ TAKE A LITTLE HEALTHFUL EXERCISE. 155 

ground, whilst the mule, not the least disconcerted, stood 
helplessly in the pathway, without attempting to move, 
the saddle covering its head like a quakeress's bonnet ; 
and never can I forget its benign expression as it peeped 

forth from beneath it. F , happily, beyond a severe 

shaking, was not any the worse for his fall ; for a time he 
lost his hat and saddle-bags, but after some search they 
were rescued, very wet ' flotsam and jetsam,' in a stagnant 
pool below. 




156 THE INDIAN A IPS. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE FLESH-POTS OF BHOOTAN. 

There Is nothing, however dreadful It may be, that does 
not sooner or later come to an end, and so at length did 
our weary agonising ride. After six hours, the foliage 
became thinner, little bits of blue sky were visible through 
the canopy of leaves, lights danced everywhere, and we 
reached Dumsong. This Is a singularly wild place, and 
more desolate than I can describe. Although surrounded 
by a superb and majestic amphitheatre of perpetually 
snow-capped peaks, their base furrowed by deep chasms 
and a thousand water-courses, that permeate the whole 
like arteries in the human frame, there is nothing to re- 
lieve the severe outlines of the mountain masses as at 
Darjeeling, and Nature Is seen in her most savage mood. 
From the summit of the hill no sls^n of habitation Is 
visible ; but a little lower down, nestling In the bosom 
of the mountain, a group of Bhootia dwellings is 
seen. Before leaving Darjeeling we were told that we 
should here find, a decent ' house ' to rest in for the 
night, the late residence of a Government official, a 
European, who, with his wife, was stationed for a long time 



DUMSONG. 157 



at Dumsong ; but for what purpose I am at a loss to 
conceive, for a more heaven-forsaken place can hardly be 
imagined. We can just see it half a mile distant, standing 
alone on the spur of a mountain, surrounded by its little 
* clearance,' all the rest being covered with thick jungle. 

Leaving our wretched mules behind, we walk across 
to the house, but find that the bats have taken posses- 
sion of it before us : the thatch has fallen in ; the windows, 
if there ever were any, have fallen out ; and the entire 
structure is in such a state of ruin that it is difficult to 
determine what luxuries it once possessed. It is erected 
on poles, and climbing the broken ladder, we look in, 
and discover that the once whitewashed walls are covered 
with cobwebs, and that colonies of insects have built 
cells in all its corners. 

Curious to enter the only European habitation in 
these wilds, we cautiously venture through the open 
doorway, for the flooring has also given way. Instantly 
a number of bats and large birds come swooping down 
from the rafters. It is a horrible and ghostly place to be 
in, and we beat a hasty retreat, not knowing what else we 
may find there. Walking round the basement, we see 
traces of the remote existence of a garden, now over- 
grown with weeds and rank grass ; and there Is something 
very beautiful and touching In these slight Indications of 
the way In which my countrymen pluckily make the best 
of the worst, and cheerfully submit to the Inevitable, by 
making a home in a wilderness of exile, even such as this. 



On the summit of a neighbouring hill stand the ruins 
of an old fort, riddled with shot and shell ; but we have 
scarcely time to look at anything, for day is waning, and 
we must find some other shelter. Hastening back, there- 
fore,to the village, where there is a small guard of native 
police, we hope they will be able to render us some assist- 
ance ; and seeing one approach, whom we recognise by his 
uniform — a white tunic, with crimson turban, and sash 
round the waist — we endeavour to explain our dilemma. 
None of our party of servants have yet come up — we 
passed them on the road more than an hour ago — and this 
makes our position the more embarrassing ; but the chow- 
keydar fortunately speaks Hindustani, and at once pre- 
cedes us to the village to make known our necessities. 

All the villagers turn out to see us, obviously regard- 
ing us as an immense novelty. Women, children, pariahs, 
and pigs, whose backs In this country bristle like porcupines, 
appear to take a lively interest in the affair, all materi- 
ally assisting in the very noisy discussion which Is being 
carried on. In a shrill key, between the ' chowkeydar ' and 
the 'head-man.' To a stranger they would seem to be 
quarrelling ; but we have learnt by experience that no 
transaction, of ever so slight a kind, can be settled by 
natives without a great deal of unnecessary hubbub and 
confusion. 

Presently this subsides ; the pariahs, having taken the 
most prominent part In the proceedings, retire with a final 
yelp to their rubbish heaps, and the pigs to their respective 



DUMSONG. 



159 



huts, to quiet the minds of those of their kind which have 
been detained indoors, and assure them that the matter 
in hand has been satisfactorily disposed of. 

We are now led through the tortuous windings of the 
little village to a newly erected hut in process of being 
thatched, which the head-man places at our service, and 




which, in the absence of anything better, I need scarcely 
say we unhesitatingly accept. We have plenty of rugs, 
happily, to keep us from the cold, and really require 
nothing more than a thatch to protect us from the heavy 

dew. Meanwhile, F , significantly chinking the money 

in his pocket, bids them by gesture make all speed ; and 
the silver key that speaks every language is eloquent in 
this instance also, for by the time the sun has set upon 



i6o THE INDIAN AIPS. 

the loftiest peak the shed is completed, and most of our 
servants have arrived. 

Thinking the walk would be too much for the women- 
folk, we had suggested their staying behind at Kalim- 
poong ; but they preferred coming on with us, and by 
leaving the pathway which we had to follow on our mules, 
and striking through the forest, they came a nearer way, 
and, saving a distance of several miles, arrived as soon as 
the rest of our people. 

By a provoking combination of circumstances, the only 
two who are lingering behind turn out to be the coolie 
carrying the provision basket and the cook, the latter, 
we are told, having been taken ill upon the way, A fire 
is soon kindled, however, and some game roasting over it, 

which F shot on the way hither, so that at any rate 

we shall not starve. The villagers, moreover, soon come 
in procession, bringing eggs, milk, and oranges for sale, 
together with a nondescript animal, something between a 
kid and a lamb, but scarcely larger than a good-sized cat. 
It is such a miserable, half-starved looking creature alto- 
gether, that we feel it will be a real charity to have it 
killed, even if we do not eat it ; and the kitmutgar, who 
is evidently a person of sanguine temperament, gives it 
as his opinion that it will make ' very good mutton,' 

Whilst the slaughter of the innocent is going on, we 
stroll out in the moonlight to see some ruined ' mendongs,' 
little buildings in the shape of temples, their sides covered 
with upright stone slabs, on which inscriptions are carved 



in Thibetan, now half obH tern ted by time. There are 
also larger ones, bearing representations of Budh, sitting 
cross-legged, with rays round the head, intended, as I 
imagine, to represent a sort of primitive aureola, and with 
an expression of jovial astonishment in his large round 
eyes. Below these mendongs, stretches a valley, in which 
may be traced the course of the Teesta up to its snowy 
cradle ; and the air is so clear and nipping, that the most 
distant objects are seen with wonderful distinctness, the 
snowy peaks looking like pale cameos set in sapphire. 

The flesh-pots are not encouraging ; but too hungry to 
be very fastidious, we return to our shed, and find not 
only that dinner is ready, but that, to our horror, besides 
making 'mutton' of the innocent, which we expected 
would appear in the shape of cutlets, or some other 
luxury, at the morrow's breakfast, in the absence of our 
chef de cuisine, they have actually roasted it whole for 
our present repast, after the manner of ' moorghee grill,' 
and there it is before us, looking like a spread eagle. 

As we sit inside the shed, and try to be contented 
with such fare as the gods give us, a homeless pariah 
creeps in stealthily, and seats himself by my side, a humble 
petitioner for bounty ; one of those waifs that always make 
me unhappy even to remember them. The foxes have 
holes, and the jackals their home in the jungle ; but the 
pariah, though half domestic, and haunting the abode 
of man, is kicked and cuffed by all classes of society, an 
outcast, for which no place in life is granted. They 



t62 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



consequently wear that friendless, ' down in the mouth,' but 
sorrowfully resigned look, almost human in its sadness, 
which, with my affection for all animals, makes my very 
heart ache to see ; and when I say ' poor fellow,' as I always 
do, or give them some other word of greeting, they turn 
upon me first an abject gaze, in which profound amaze- 
ment is mingled, and then, as if awakening at last to 
some faint inkling of my kindly meaning, very slightly wag 
the tail, in all probability for the first and last time in 
their whole lives. To me a pariah is the saddest 
thing in nature, and my friendship for them has won 
for me the proud title of the 'pariah's friend.' 

Then crouching round our camp-fire we listen to 
the singing of Tartar melodies — for the Bhootias, like 
every other nation, also possess a primitive music — and 
to a man in a neighbouring hut twanging out a Thibetan 
air on a kind of guitar, whilst others sing ; the whole 
rendered all the more sweet by an occasional obligato 
accompaniment of jackals in the distance. 





CHAPTER XVI. 

A MIDNIGHT CONCERT. 

' Tired nature's sweet restorer ' was far from us that 
night. How could it be otherwise ? Sheep bleated, 
cows grunted — Bhootia cows always do — whilst the 
herd of jackals which discoursed plaintive music from a 
more distant 'platform' earlier in the evening, waxing bold, 
as balmy sleep fell on the human inhabitants of the little 
village, came near, and favoured us with a serenade. 

The natives took no notice of them, however, appear- 
ing, on the contrary, to be sleeping soundly within their 
huts, possibly soothed to rest by these warblers of the 
night. And why not ? tor, after all, beauty of sound as 
well as form often consists as much in association as in the 
object itself ; Mr. Ruskin, who ought to be an authority in 
such matters, declaring Beauty to be a phantom of the 
brain, called up oy association merely. But whether it 
arise from idealism, gregariousness, or a real attribute of 
external nature, it matters little in the present case, for to 
02ir ears, not familiarised to these nightingales by habit 
or fond association,, the sound resembled a dismal and 
unearthly wailing of women, with a strong dash of the 
hyaena, to which a whole kennel of hounds baying the 



moon would In comparison have been as loveliest music 
of the spheres. 

With all possible admiration for the brave captain 
of the Rob-Roy, I cannot agree with him, when, alluding 
to the ' wild jackal's scream ' of Egypt, he describes It as 
' plaintive, clear, and not unmusical, but rather lulls to 
slumber.' My recollection of the Egyptian jackal — for I 
too have sojourned in that land — is, that Its strains are no 
sweeter, but precisely those of its Indian brethren ; and I 
ask my compatriots In exile, whether those nocturnal 
visitants to their 'compounds' are wont to produce a sweet 
and soothing lullaby or otherwise, and whether Mr. 
McGregor's sense of ' beauty,' for once. Is not Ideal to an 
unusual extent ? 

We were, besides all these, beset by a pariah, one of 
my ' pets,' as F , disturbed from his slumbers, re- 
proachfully called it, which stood at the entrance to the 
shed, barking and howling by turns, threatening to make 
a dash at us perpetually through the open doorway ; but 

he (F ) was provokingly philosophical about the whole, 

and with an occasional 'Get out!' administered in sten- 
torian accents, maintained silence throughout the night, 
save when snoring euphoniously beneath his rugs, whilst I 
sat up In a perfect whirl of excitement and apprehension. 

We had previously Intended making another day's 
journey Into the interior, but now decide to remain 
here, to give our people a day's rest, and then to return 
to-morrow, feeling we have seen quite as much of Bhootan 



as we care for. A beautiful picture of the snowy range 
may be made from this spot, with the ' mendongs ' — which 
some affirm to be Lama tombs — for a foreground, so that 
the day need not be spent altogether unprofitably. The 
aspect of the mountains, too, is so completely changed 
from this position that none of the peaks with which we 
are familiar at Darjeeling are recognisable. Beneath the 
highest, at an elevation of about 22,000 feet, are two 
singular columns of rock, their base embedded in the 
snow ; and one can hardly help fancying, from the regu- 
larity of their formation, that, instead of being the result 
of nature's mighty agency, they must have been hewn, 
and placed there by some human, but Giant hand. 

It is interesting- to observe the effect which these grrand 
and sublime scenes have upon Lattoo's untutored mind. 
All Lepchas are true worshippers of nature under what 
ever form, and, although a Bhootia, she has much more 
of the Lepcha in her disposition than that of her own 
race. When walking along, she will often stop suddenly, 
as some new loveliness of mountain, river, or wayside 
flower strikes her, and gaze in silent wonder ; moun- 
tains particularly seeming to have a solemnising effect 
upon her, as they have upon some minds. There was a 
reserved grace and dignity about her occasionally, at which 
I marvelled greatly in one of her class, and, in spite of her 
little caprices and laughing eye, her face would assume 
a sad and pensive expression, as though there were 
thoughts and feelings within her, to which she longed but 



1 66 THE INDIAN A I PS. 

could never find words to give utterance, till the yearning 
became almost painful. Her mind was like a rich but un- 
cultivated soil, whose depths I longed to open, and she 
became, if possible, an object of greater interest to me 
each day. 

' I wish I was already thar, mem sahib,' she said to me 
as I sat beneath the mendongs sketching the beautiful 
snows with the evening light upon them. ' We shall be 
soon, eh, mem sahib ? ' 

' You must not be too sure of going with us, Lattoo,' 
I replied ; ' the sahib has not yet decided that you m^e to 
go.' For I saw she had set her heart upon it, and I did 
not wish to disappoint hen She had already proved her- 
self rather wilful since she had been with me, even these 
few days, and I began to realise in my heart of hearts 
that to have her with me for a permanency would be 
much the same as having a young hippopotamus, or some 
other half-tamed creature, highly amusing and delightful 
for a time, and at stated intervals, but nevertheless an 
anxiety and worry to have about one every day, and all 
day long. Only this morning a little episode occurred 
that gave me some insight into her character. 

Leaving the shed I caught sight of a strange little 
figure approaching, which at first I had some difficulty in 
recognising. 

' Is that you Lattoo ! ' I exclaimed, as she made me a 
little curt salaam. 

In the place of the pretty headgear she knew I liked 



A STRANGE LITTLE FIGURE. 167 

SO well, and her hair neatly braided beneath it, she had 
the latter tucked back, and completely hidden by a yellow 
cotton handkerchief bound round the head, in the most 
unbecoming way possible ; and one glance at her defiant 
look and compressed lips, so unlike the placid pensive 
smile with which she usually greeted me, showed plainly 
enough that her appearance was not the result of acci- 
dent, but design. All at once I recollected that I had 
had occasion to reprove her slightly last night, and, like 
a naughty wayward child, she was no doubt resenting it, 
by rendering her appearance as unpleasing as possible. 
She had evidently not forgotten, either, the pains I took 
to arrange .the folds of her skirt, when she stood for her 
portrait, for she had now pinned it behind her in great 
awkward plaits. It was difficult to help laughing at this 
bewitching little Fury ; but I took no notice of her, feeling 
assured that that was the quickest way of restoring her 
to her former gentle, happy self. With the remem- 
brance of this little ebullition of temper still present with 
me, I repeated, 

' I do not think the sahib will let me take you, 
Lattoo ; you know you could not walk all the way, and we 
should have to take bearers to carry you. The sahib 
has been very good to let you be with me so long now, 
and you must be grateful for this, and not repine because 
you cannot have all that you would like.' 

The following morning we mount our mules again, 
and hope by starting early to reach Kalimpoong in time 



to give ourselves and them a short rest, and then go on 

to the Teesta. Now that F has improvised a crupper 

for his saddle, and the mules have their heads turned 
in a homeward direction, they jog on more amiably. 
As we descend through the forest, two wolves cross our 

path fifty yards ahead. F tries to shoot them but 

misses. He bags some game, however, to replenish the 
commissariat, consisting of a hill partridge and argus 
pheasant ; the latter a beautiful bird with scarlet feathers, 
dotted all over with small white spots, like eyes. Later 
in the day he also shot a waterfowl the size of a large 
duck, the plumage of which was dark-blue and yellow, and 
its legs and the broad webbed feet the brightest orange. 

One cannot help being greatly struck with the ap- 
pearance of Bhootan as one passes through it ; that is to 
say, of those portions which are under cultivation. The 
soil is rich, the crops abundant, and the people themselves 
look very thriving, their large and commodious huts being 
surrounded by fields of millet and bhoota. But there can 
be small encouragement for the amassingf of wealth 
in a country where, on the death of the head of a family — 
no matter how numerous the children he leaves behind 
him, or what the nature of their requirements — the whole 
of his property reverts to the Deb Rajah, and where the 
people generally are over-ridden by the Soobahs, and 
taxed beyond bearing. 

On our arrival at Kalimpoong, we find our cook, who 
appears to be in a highly flourishing condition of body and 




KINCHIN JUNGA & FLfNDEEM, BY MOONLIGHT. 



HANHART CHROMO IMP. 



mind. We have a very shrewd suspicion that he in- 
duced our baggage coolies, probably by the promise of 
' backsheesh,' to say he had been taken ill upon the road, 
and that in reality he had not left this place at all, but 
spent the time pleasantly in the society of the Guards, 
with whom he seems to be on exceedingly friendly terms. 

We are here told that it would be unwise to attempt 
to leave this place before to-morrow, and that if we 
persisted in doing so we should in all probability be 
benighted on the downward way, not a very pleasant 
prospect with the gorge full of leopards. We are perfectly 
willing, however, to put up once more in this clean and 
comfortable hut, which, after our Dumsong campaign, 
seems positively luxurious. 

Accordingly, at noon the next day we reach the beau- 
tiful Teesta, where everything looks more lovely than 
ever, after the bleak and desolate regions we have quitted. 
The flowing river, the picturesque figures crossing the 
fairy-like bridge, and the wondrous luxuriance and gor- 
geous colouring of the vegetation, all delight us anew. 
Bidding a joyful farewell to our wretched mules, which 
we hope never again to behold in the flesh, and giving a 
parting * backsheesh ' to the muleteers — the only thing 
which they seem capable of understanding, for they loudly 
clamour for more — we come to anchor once more in our 
little shanty, though for a few hours only this time, 
having sent our Lepchas on with baggage, &c. to the next 
halting-place, further up the river on the opposite side. 

z 



TJO 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



We linger till evening approaches, and then cross the 
Teesta on the bamboo raft I have before described. 
A frail bark it truly is to trust oneself upon, the rapids 
making its tiny timbers creak and strain, as though it 
must break up and fall to pieces. The swift bounding 
current bears us to the right, and reaching the opposite 




shore, we walk a little higher up the river, and find that 
the Lepchas have already made 'leaf huts' for Lattoo 
and ourselves in a little romantic spot, close to the margin 
of the river; and very rural abodes they are, whilst the 
breeze, blowing through the freshly gathered boughs, 
renders them cool and fragrant. 

As we are in a very lonely place, surrounded by jungle, 
provision is at once made for large fires, to prevent any 
invasion of wild beasts during the night. After this the 
Lepchas again set traps to catch fish, and then making cups 
of their hands, they bale up water and sprinkle it about 
them, as if invoking the protection of the river god ; for, 
like the Hindoos, they have a mythology. 

Lattoo has been less mirthful to-day. Last night, 
after retiring to our hut, I heard voices speaking outside 



OUR BIVOUAC AT THE RUNGHEET. 171 

in subdued tones for a long time, and on looking out, I 
found her talking in an earnest manner to the ' butterfly 
Lepcha.' They were both opposite the camp-fire, which, 
burning brightly, enabled me to distinguish their features 
perfectly. 

' Lattoo !' I exclaimed, appearing out of the darkness, 
and standing before them like an inconvenient and inop- 
portune ghost, ' What are you doing here ? You will 
catch cold.' 

' All right, mem sahib,' she replied, turning round 
sharply, and speaking in her pretty broken English, with 
the least possible tremor in her voice. * Lepcha man 
only fetch bring Lattoo waiter! 

I had had no opportunity of alluding to the matter 
during the day, for she had, as I fancied, studiously 
avoided me ; but as soon as I reached the Rungheet, and 
had her quietly in the hut all to myself, I remarked that 
the young Lepcha had all along seemed much more fond 
of walking by her side than of catching butterflies, and 
that the sahib had noticed it. Hereupon she burst into a 
passionate flood of tears, and throwing herself on the 
ground, clasped my feet, saying : — 

' Oh, mem sahib ! don't be hard upon him ; it is poor 
Atchoo. I did not want him to come, but he would.' 

' But do you think it was kind of you, Lattoo, to keep 
me in the dark ? You know I have always been your 
friend, and shown you what sympathy I could.' 

' Eh, mem sahib, yes ! but I was afraid.' 



172 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



'Afraid of what ?' 

' Of the sahib ; afraid that he might punish Atchoo if 
you told him of it' 

At this juncture our conversation was cut short by 
the entrance of the sahib himself, who bade me come out 




and enjoy the moonlight, and I could say no more on the 
subject then. 

F and I paced the bank of the river to and fro, 

near our little encampment, till the moon had not only 



risen behind the tree-fringed mountain crest, but crossed 
the gorge. It was our last bivouac in this peaceful 
valley, and we would make the most of it. Retiring 
soon after midnight, we slept soundly till two o'clock, 
when I was awakened by a distant noise as of branches 
bending and snapping in the forest behind us, then the 
muffled thud of footsteps, whether human or otherwise I 
could not determine, but hoped it might be merely those 
of some of our men. At length there was a sudden 
burst of sound, as if the very boughs of our hut were 

being torn out. Shrieking for F , I found the noise 

had not only aroused him, but that he was searching for 
his rifle. Cautiously opening the door — a kind of im- 
promptu hurdle — he discerned what in the darkness ap- 
peared to be nothing more formidable than a number of 
cows surrounding us. Meanwhile shouting lustily for our 
people, who had carelessly allowed the fires to die out, he 
struck a light, and venturing outside, found a herd of 
buffalo quietly grazing on the leaves of our abode — eating 
it up, in fact ! 

Dangerous creatures as they sometimes are, they 
were easily frightened away on this occasion. They made 
up for their docility, however, by bellowing furiously, 
the sound they produce being something between the 
snort of a walrus and the grunt of a Bhootia cow, and 
the forest rang with these wild orgies for at least an hour 
afterwards. 

Making our men relight the fires, w^e once more sub- 



174 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

sided Into comfortable sleep, and at peep of day, strolling 
down by the river, we saw the buffalo swimming across. 
Very singular and interesting it was to see the great 
black ungainly fellows doing battle with the current, and 
floundering about, with their square nostrils just out of 
the water. We here learnt that they belonged to a party 
of Bhootias, who were taking them over to Sikkim, and 
who themselves were camping near the little bridge at the 
entrance of the gorge, but were nevertheless wholly un- 
conscious of the straying of their kine. 

Then before the night bird had ceased his plaint, we 
started on our homeward road, brushing through banks of 
ferns and the great heart-shaped bigonia, with its pink 
wax-like flowers smiling through tears of dew, which 
rained down upon us as we passed. 

On the margin of the river a tree was growing, which 
our syces pointed out to us, and the fruit of which the 
natives use to poison fish. Saturating rice with a decoc- 
tion of the poison, they throw it into the river, and the 
fish devouring It die, and floating to the surface, are 
easily taken. Then coming to a bend in the river, we 
saw a Lepcha paddling his canoe across the rapids — a 
rude bark, hollowed out of a tree — on his way to a little 
establishment of wood-cutters on the opposite bank, the 
smoke of whose fire, ascending in blue columns against 
the sombre background of trees, made a picture for an 
artist. 

We reach the Rungheet guard-post at noon, and 



IF£ LEAVE THE 'HAPPY VALLEY: 



175 



halt, not only to give our ponies rest, but to partake of 
breakfast. The fire is soon lighted, and an omelette 
frizzling over it, which, with hunter's beef, is to form our 
frugal meal. Several of the baggage coolies have already 
arrived, but the one carrying the crockery basket is loiter- 
ing in the rear ; wherefore it is only truthful to confess, 
that, /ante de dish, we eat it with all due solemnity out 
of the frying-pan ! 




1^ . ;<v( " ■' 

When our ponies have rested sufficiently, we make 
another start. Threading our way through the mimosa 
thicket, we re-cross the little bridge, and pass beneath 
pandanus palms, Gordonia, and the ever stately sol ; till, 
ascending, we leave these far behind, and entering a tea- 
plantation, zig-zag through miles and miles of tea bushes, 
and find ourselves In regions where the air blows chill. 
On, till we reach the plantation coolies' huts, all built close 
together, as if to keep each other warm. In the tall forest 
trees beyond, the thrush is carolling his evensong ; and soon 
the less harmonious strains of the band reach us, playing 



176 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

in the ' kiosk,' at the Chow rusta, whither each evening the 
beauty and fashion of the little station resort — a circum- 
stance which has caused the profane to stigmatise it as the 
Temple of Gossip. Whether it be devoted to that Muse 
or not, it cannot always in truth be called the Temple 
of Harmony, for, although there is a battery of artillery 
at the military cantonment, no regiment is at present 
stationed there, it being rather a sanitarium for invalids. 
The band therefore is generally composed of men of 
various regiments, who have been sent here for health, and 
their performances, as they have no bandmaster to regulate 
them, are as a rule not of a very soul- inspiring nature. At 
this moment the trombone is carrying on a very imposing 
and conscientious bass on a single note in one key, whilst 
a sharp little piccolo, which sets one's teeth on edge, is 
indulging in coruscations in a shrill treble in another ; 
the intermediate instruments, meanwhile, doing their best 
to complete the discord by an extemporaneous compro- 
mise between an accompaniment and variations of the 
' air.' But, on the other hand, the drum, beaten by a mus- 
cular artillerym.an, covers a multitude of sins and short- 
comings, and a herd of approving jackals in the distance 
howls an encore. 

Our homeward road lies through this gay and festive 
throng ; but, feeling painfully conscious that our appear- 
ance is not rendered the more interesting by the out-of- 
doors life we have been leading, and unwilling to subject 
ourselves either to fair or unfair criticism, we steal round 



INVALID SOLDIERS. 



by a path below — though by a longer route — which takes 
us through the outskirts of the Bhootia BustI, where the 
usual number of bipeds and quadrupeds of all sorts and 
sizes have to be ridden through and over, and where we 
ourselves get blinded with smoke, for the narrow path- 
way, leading us above the roofs of the little huts which 
cling to the hill-sides, occasionally affords us suffocating 
glimpses through the holes in the thatch, which are the 
primitive chimneys of these people. At length, entering 
the high road, we overtake a number of invalid soldiers 
lying in dhooHes, a kind of bed car. ied on men's shoulders 
— ' ferocious dhoolies,' as they were once called in high 
quarters in England during the mutiny, having been mis- 
taken for some wild hill tribe — which was hard upon them, 
to say the least of it ; the pathetic rendering of the 
homeward dispatches being, that ' the ferocious Dhoolies 
came down and carried all the sick and wounded away ! ' 
The poor fellows we pass have been sent hither from 
the scorching plains, with their fever -stricken and 
otherwise sickly frames, to grow strong and well, please 
God ! in this pure and invigorating mountain air, It is, 
indeed, wonderful in how short a time they do so ; that 
is to say, those who are suffering merely from the ordi- 
nary complaints incidental to the plains, there being few^ 
cases in which the sudden change of climate operates 
prejudicially. It is very sad to see some of these, who 
appear terribly ill and emaciated, leading one to fear that 
they may have been sent hither too late, and that Death 

A A 



has alreacl) set his cold liand upon them. To one man, 
■who seems much exliausted h)' his long journey, we give 
a little wine we happen to have with us in a pocket 
flask, for which he is very grateful ; and turning his wan 

face towards F , exclaims, ' Oh. sir ! I never see such 

a beautiful country, never in my horned days ;' but we tell 
him that he must wait till he reaches ycUapahar — the 
military cantonment — and sees the morrow's sun rise on 
the snow-clad peaks, to know what glor)^ and sublimity 
are in nature. Ascending the steep, steep path that leads 
to the hospital, they are soon lost sight of in the gather- 
ing darkness; and rounding the spur of the hill and 
nearing our pretty mountain dwelling, the first things that 
attract our notice are two white specks on the lawn, which 
prove to be the tents pitched, which we are to take on our 
longer trip into the ' Interior.' 




THE ' FF.ROCIOUS lUlOOLIEl' 



DEPARTURE. 779 



CHAPTER XVII. 

AWAY TO THE SNOWS ! 

Besides thirty-two baggag-e coolies, we were to take four 
servants — viz, a kitmutgar, bearer, and two syces — exclu- 
si\^e of the sirdar, or head man, vvho is supposed to be 
responsible for the conduct of the rest, keep them up to 
their duties, and see that none cheat or take advan- 
tage of you but himself 

Six men were to be laden with tents, one with our 
small tent-stove, and two others with rum for the baggage 
coolies — a thing we were strongly advised to take a good 
supply of, as being very necessary on such an expedition, 
enabling them to resist not only cold but fever, to which 
night exposure invariably subjects them when they get 
into inclement heights. In addition to these, twelve 
were told off to carry tent furniture and travelling impe- 
diments generally, and the rest to carry my dandy. 

A Bareilly dandy is a kind of reclining chair made of 
cane, and suspended by leather straps to a strong rim 
of wood, the shape of a boat, with a pole at each end. 

This was to be my mode of conveyance ; F and C 

having decided to take ponies for themselves, being 



sanguine enoug^h to believe that they will ride the chief 
part of the way, for these strong little beasts are sup- 
posed capable of performing any gymnastic achievement, 
short of walking upon their heads : but there are limits 
to the tempers, as we have seen, if not to the capabilities, 
of the Himalayan pony, and whether they sustained their 
character to the end, or proved a delusion and a snare, 
will be seen hereafter. 

Some little delay was caused by the difficulty our 
sirdar found in obtaining Lepchas to accompany us. 
They are said to make infinitely better servants than the 
Bhootias ; but at the last moment w^e were compelled 
to content ourselves wdth fourteen of the latter tribe 



amongst our retmue. 



I will not linger over the few days that preceded our 
departure, which were spent in wishing friends good-bye, 
and in making the thousand and one little arrangements 
necessary for such an expedition, and an absence of 
many weeks' duration from all civilisation. It had been 

settled between F and myself that Lattoo was not 

to go, at which on her side many bitter tears were shed ; 
hut for many reasons it seemed wiser that I should not 
take an ayah with me, 

I was putting the finishing touches to my packing 
in the twilight, two evenings before we started, when she 
came with downcast eyes, and placing something in my 
hand, which I saw at a glance was the old silver charm- 
box that once belonged to her mother, said sorrowfully, 



DEPARTURE. 



' Mem sahib go to bad country, where no trees, no 
flowers, no nothing grow, where the sun shines cold, and 
where men starve and die, the country of the dreadful 
moth.^ Wicked spirits live in the rocks ^/ia7^; take this 
and no harm come, — no take, plenty trouble.' 

I looked involuntarily towards the window ; a ghastly 
pallor had spread itself over the snowy peaks, which were 
bathed in glory but a few minutes before, and black clouds 
lowered overhead. The room was getting dark and 
chilly, and Lattoo looked so sad and earnest. Could it 
be true that unknown dangers lurked there ? Were there 
wicked spirits inhabiting the rocks that could be charmed 
away ? The next moment reason triumphed. ' No, 
child,' I exclaimed impatiently; 'take it. away, I don't be- 
lieve in charms.' 

' Nae, mem sahib ! but it contains Lama prayers.' 

' God will protect us, Lattoo ; we are going to see His 
beautiful mountains, and to learn more of Him and of 
His greatness in the works of His hand. Do not tease 
me so. I have no fear.' 

Turning round I discovered that the room was 
empty. Lattoo had gone, leaving me abruptly, as she had 
so often done before. There was nothing strange in 
her doing so, but I felt sorry she had gone — I was not 
to see her again for many many weeks ; and she looked 
so pale and sad, and I had meant to comfort, and 

1 There is a legend that a large moth exists in the interior of these 
mountain regions which causes the death of all whom it may touch. 



speak tender words of parting to her, but Instead of 
this I had spoken harshly. Poor child ! How little I 
then thought what would happen to her ere I returned 
to Darjeeling ! 

The next day we dispatched our coolies, in company 

with those of our friend C , numbering altogether 

fifty-eight — exclusive of fifteen he had already sent on — 
with instructions to proceed to Goke, a small guard-post 
fourteen miles distant, and to await our arrival there. 

Each man can'Ied not only the loads apportioned to 
him, but sufficient food for a week or two for himself also, 
consisting chiefly of rice and bhoota. Beyond that time 

C had made provision for them, by arranging with 

the Soubahs and Kajees' of the Rajah's territories, 
through which we should have to pass, to send supplies 
to meet us at the various points along our route, a thing 
they promised faithfully to do ; but, alas ! how has my 
confidence in princes been shaken for evermore ! But 
I must not anticipate. 

Had not C so arranged, we must have taken 

double the number of men, to convey sufficient food for the 
whole distance, as the way which we had decided to take 
lay over barren wilds, far above and beyond the reach of 
villages, where they might otherwise have replenished for 
themselves. There are no roads In the ' Interior,' or even 
pathways, and after leaving Darjeeling a very few marches 
behind, we shall have to follow the leading of our 

' Agents and Finance Ministers. 



instincts, and trust to the configuration of the distant 
mountains to guide us onwards. 

As I stood at the window, watching the coolies one 
by one disappear beneath the hill with their loads, my 
pulse beat fast, and my heart throbbed ; not, however, 
Irom the proud anticipation that we were about to travel 
amongst the most extensive and lofty mountains of the 
world, but — shall I confess it ? — from misgivings lest, 
after all, the prophets of evil should be right, and I prove 
incapable of sustaining the fatigue of such a journey. 
Yonder lay the whole vast expanse of the Sub- Himalaya, 
Alp upon Alp, and wave upon wave of blue mountain, 
varying in height from eight to fourteen thousand feet, all 
of which w^e must cross before reaching even the base of 
the snowy range, fifty miles distant as a bird would fly, 
but nearly one hundred and fifty to us. 

Several gentlemen had penetrated into the ' interior ' 
by the direct route — viz. that along the valleys of the rivers 
Rungheet and Ratong — by which, until Jongli is reached — 
the highest point where yaks are grazed in the summer 
months — villages are frequently to be met with ; but 
scarcely more than one European^ had traversed the crest 
of the Singaleelah chain, the route which we had marked 
out for ourselves — and I was the first lady to explore the 
Eastern Himalaya by either way ; so that it was no marvel, 
if I felt a few qualms, and a little trepidation, when our men 
had actually departed, and the irrevocable step was taken. 

1 This one is the eminent naturahst Dr. Hooker. 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



A friend through whose plantation we should have 
to pass on our first day's march, most kindly asked us to 
sleep at his house en roiite, as by so doing we should be 
enabled to reach our first camping-place, at Goke, early 
the following day. Accordingly, on a Friday — that in- 
auspicious day — we make the grand start. 

The rains, that usually break up about the beginning 
of October, had been protracted this year beyond all pre- 
cedent, and there had been such a determined and steady 
down-pour for three days after our return from the Teesta, 
as can only be witnessed either in the Tropics, or in the 
mountainous districts of this land. But, most fortunately, 
the very day we decide to start, the weather clears ; and 
as we descend the mountain steeps, the clouds which 
have gathered up are clinging in huge masses beneath 
their summits, whose rugged edges drag and hold them 
in their grasp like carded wool. Notwithstanding this, 
in the purpling valleys at our feet, a sea of leaden vapour 
is still floating, and, although the horizon above the highest 
peaks is bright and clear, there is a sharpness in their 
outline that has a suspicious look, auguring anything but 
the end of the rainy season. We are too happy, however, 
to admit of forebodings or ill omens of any kind : every- 
thing IS cote-kur de rose; as indeed the sky is by this time, 
for the sinking sun is tingeing the Snows with his parting 
rays, whilst they tower, spire-like, upwards as if to see 
the last of him. 

Emerging from a grove of tree-ferns, we can just 



PLANTER'S HOUSE. 



185 



discern our tents, three or four thousand feet below, 
already pitched in readiness for us, looking like little 
white dots on the spur of a wooded hill ; and reaching 
the house at six o'clock, we are welcomed in the veran- 
dah by our pretty hostess. 




The house stands at an elevation of about 5000 feet, 
and although situated at rather too low an altitude for fine 
views generally, it commands a magnificent one of the 
eternal Snows, and a whole world of mountains, over 
which the monarch Kinchinjunga reigns supreme. It is 
a pretty little dwelling, not altogether unlike a Swiss 
chalet, having wooden balconies all round it, covered 
with the passion flower, Virginia creeper, and other 
climbing plants, and in every respect in perfect keeping 
with the surrounding scenery. A cup of fragrant tea 
awaits us in the verandah, such as is alone to be met with 

B B 



i86 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

at a planter's house — very few who partake in England 
of that which is dignified by the name, having the faintest 
notion of what a delicious thing it really is ; adulteration, 
or mixing with inferior teas, taking place almost imme- 
diately after it leaves the plantation. Nor is quality the 
only desideratum to its perfection — new-made tea, even 
of the best, tasting very much like fresh hay with an 
additional flavouring of mint ; and it is only after the third 
year that it acquires its full flavour. A lady residing in a 
tea district is consequently as particular in the age of her 
tea, as a gentleman is in that of his wine. 

Dinner at seven ; and a delightful evening afterwards, 
passed with music, and all the graceful entotirages of an 
English home ; and then, on saying ' good night,' a peep 
into the balcony — 'just,' as our host said, * to snatch one look 
at the snows,' upon which the moon had risen. The one 
look ended in our pacing it to and fro till midnight, all 
being unwilling to close our eyes on a scene so lovely. 

The next morning after breakfast we take leave of 
our kind entertainers, and continue our descent through 
the plantation. Here again we see patient women 
gathering tea, their small babies, as usual, lying in baskets ; 
and I come to the conclusion that, of all things living, 
there is nothing half so pretty as a Bhootia or Lepcha 
baby, with its tiny round face and large eyes, the size of 
the latter enhanced by kohl, with which the eyelids are 
painted. They smile at me as I pass them, lying quietly 
in their little baskets, but always wide awake ; and I 



PAMPAS-GRASS. 



187 



cannot help wondering whether Bhootia or Lepcha babies 
ever sleep. 

Sometimes I stop for an instant and chat with their 
mothers, winning their hearts by admiration of their 



children, then hasten on again, for F 



and C- 



are 



both some distance in advance ; but I can occasionally catch 
a glimpse of the tops of their helmets and alpenstocks as 




they zig-zag beneath, whilst counting time to the heavy 
tramp-tramp of my bearers as they carry me along. 

Zig-zagging still, and always descending, the heat be- 
comes oppressive, and tropical vegetation begins. Clumps 
of pampas-grass, growing ten feet high, now enclose our 
pathway on either side; and I start involuntarily as its 
tall dry stems, rocking to and fro, creak and crack and 
knock against each other, as they will do, strangely 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



enough, even in the absence of the sUghtest breeze to 
stir the air ; and I am reminded of the conventional tiger 
of my childhood, and see it breaking cover to spring 
upon the luckless traveller, as it did in my first picture- 
book. 

But there are no tigers here, this not being the eleva- 
tion for them ; and leopards do not often leave their 
lairs till night-fall, and are by no means the formidable 
animals they are generally reputed to be, planters having 
repeatedly assured us that they seldom if ever attack 
man, being, on the contrary, much afraid of him. A 
child or feeble person they probably would attack if 
hungry, but not otherwise, preferring, as a rule, to dine 
off jungle fauna, their favourite prey being the ' barking 
deer/ 

A few months ago, however, I did have a much 
nearer view of one than I at all appreciated, notwith- 
standing these assurances. I was sketching at mid-day 
in a gorge about five thousand feet below Darjeeling, 
where the most perfect and absolute solitude reigns, 
and where a river, unseen till approached quite closely, 
flows cradled in precipitous rocks, the water black in 
some places, from the deep shadow they cast upon its 
surface. Sitting on one of the boulders in mid-stream, 
an otter, or some other small animal, bounded out of 
the thick jungle to my right, and came down to the 
margin of the river to drink. Following slowly, with cat- 
like footsteps, as if it had been lying in ambush, a 



DIGRESSION. iS() 



leopard crept forth in pursuit, climbing one of the 
large stones on the bank, as though to watch its move- 
ments, and take his opportunity to pounce upon it. But, 
contrary to his expectations, instead of returning, his 
prey swam across the stream, and was soon lost sight 
of amongst the rocks and sand on the opposite side. 
The leopard followed a few yards, and then finding it 
had eluded his grasp, cast one regretful glance at its 
hiding-place, and almost as stealthily returned to the 
jungle whence it came. 

I was terribly frightened, far too much so to make 
at the moment any demonstration of alarm, and my 
attendants in charge of my pony, being some distance 
off, knew nothing of my adventure. Had they been 
present, they would have fled to a certainty, leaving me 
to face the danger alone, for there is but little chivalry 
in natives ; but as soon as I had recovered sufficient com- 
posure I summoned them to my side, and hastily packing 
up my sketch, which I had ridden so many miles to take, 
was soon on my homeward way. 

On another occasion I was sketching with a friend in 
the very heart of a primeval forest, several thousand feet 
below Senshul, our men and ponies this time being bivou- 
acked close beside us. Suddenly we heard the cries of 
a small animal proceeding from a place some hundreds 
of feet up the mountain. At length they grew fainter 
and fainter till they died away, and the forest was 
as silent as before. Half an hour or so had elapsed, 



I90 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

when the sound of cracking and crushing down of 
bushes reached us, as though something larger than the 
creature whose cries we had heard were forcing its way 
through the underwood. Almost immediately, about 
a hundred yards ahead of us, a tiger broke cover, and, 
leaping over the path, disappeared down the ' khud.' 
Scrambling our things together — and this time paying 
little heed to the safety of our pictures — our ponies were 
saddled, and we on them in a twinkling ; and shrieking 
loudly, which we had been told natives always do in 
proximity to wild beasts, we started off at a hand gallop. 

Our path unfortunately would of necessity lead us past 
the very spot where the tiger showed himself; but even- 
ing was approaching, the sun already sinking below the 
summit of the opposite hill, and there was nothing for it 
but to get out of the woods, and into the high road, as fast 
as possible. Reaching the spot, we felt little doubt, from 
the presence of a mountain streamlet, that he had fol- 
lowed its course down to a forest pool, to slake his thirst 
after his meal, for the fact of his making his appearance 
so soon after the cries I have mentioned led to the con- 
jecture that he had killed and devoured some prey. 

The next day we were told that a large tiger had 
been at Senshul the two previous nights, and carried off 
a goat each time. It is a very unusual thing for tigers 
to be heard of at this elevation, but I need scarcely say 
that I never ventured to sketch in one of these lonely 
and unfrequented forests again. My impression is that 



JVJi REACH THE CIIOTA RUNG HE ET. u)i 

persons might ride or walk through them for years, without 
meeting with such an adventure, for I believe that none 
of these animals would leave their lairs by day, if they 
heard but the slightest approach of man ; but if one sits 
silently sketching- hour after hour, with one's attendants 
stretched on the ground fast asleep, the forest is as still 
as if wholly untenanted. 

During this digression, we have been steadily de- 
scending the mountain, till we have left the tea planta- 
tion behind ; and now pass through dense jungle of 
bamboo, wild plantain or banana, the leafless cotton tree 
covered with scarlet blossoms, and the cinchona, with its 
delicate and exquisite sapphire bloom, beneath all of 
which is a fantastic undergrowth of aromatic wormwood, 
flowering shrubs, and ferns, each struggling for the 
mastery, and rank luxuriance everywhere. 

At noon we reach the banks of a river — the Chota 
(little) Rungheet — having in four hours passed through 
various climates, till we are now in heat almost unbearable. 

F gathers some ripe lemons and pomiloes from a 

little plantation of fruit, under which we halt for shade, 
and with these we refresh ourselves in the scorching 
valley. The recent heavy rains having swollen the river 
to an unusual degree, it is found impossible to cross on 
our ponies, and we are therefore compelled to leave them 
behind in charge of the syces, trusting they will be able 
to follow us on the morrow. 

Here we find a party of some fifteen or twenty 



192 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

men, whom C sent on some days ago, engaged in 

the construction of a bamboo bridge, the permanent one 
of cane being out of repair, and consequently in an 
unsafe state for passengers ; but the temporary bridge 
is so far from completion, that we determine not to wait 
for it, but cross the other as well as we can. It is almost 
severed in the centre, but with care we severally gain the 
opposite bank, and soon find ourselves toiling up the 
slope in blazing sunshine. The gentlemen, finding the 
climb very fatiguing, deplore the absence of their ponies ; 
but I fare far better in my dandy, my bearers carrying me, 
four at a time, relieving each other at frequent intervals, 
until at two o'clock they land me on Goke spur. 

This is a small frontier post, guarded by a few native 
soldiers, the Rimmam — a river we can hear plunging 
over its rocky bed on the other side of the hill — forming 
the boundary between British and independent Sikkim, 
just as the Teesta does between our territory and 
Bhootan; one of its chief objects being to prevent the 
Sikkimites from crossing over the border, and taking 
back British subjects as slaves, a proceeding of which 
some few years ago they were by no means unfrequently 
guilty. 



CHAPTER XVIIL 



UNDER CANVAS. 



Our tents, five in number, look exceedingly snug and 
comfortable ; and very gladly do I take shelter In one of 
them from the fierce rays of the sun, for we are as yet 
at an elevation of scarcely more than three thousand 
feet. And what a peculiar fascination these little canvas 
homes possess for those who have never lived in one 
before. The low doorway, beneath which one has to 
enter ; the compactness of the canvas walls ; the fitness 
and suitability of everything — nothing superfluous, nothing 
really lacking ; the multinn in parvo style of its whole 
arrangements ; the little square awning which forms a 
shelter to the aperture, all so small and doll-like; the 
lazy flapping of the canvas with every motion of the 
wind ; the gentle twitter of birds, and subdued noises 
outside ; the peep of the sweet country through the open 
doorway ; the shadows on the sunlit grass ; the blue of 
the distant hills ; and the novelty of the whole thing, as 
one feels one's self for the first time a ' rover ' in very 
earnest — all possess a charm that Is perfectly Indescri- 
bable. As I sit here I look out upon the cooking tent, 
where vigorous preparations for dinner are going on, 

c c 



194 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

whilst a kettle is purring cheerily over another fire close 
by, all looking like a little framed picture ; and though we 
have the blue sky for a canopy, and the green sward for a 
carpet, everything looks so completely the ideal of content- 
ment and home, that I almost wish I had been born a gipsy. 

C soon arrives, but F not for an hour later, 

frightfully knocked up by the heat and long climb, and 
I must confess that his feeling the fatigue of the first day's 
march so greatly, filled me with forebodings for the 
future, he being by no means the strongest of our trio. 

Like the rest of us, however, he revived considerably 
on being informed that dinner was almost ready, and 
was nearly recovered when it was announced. On see- 
ing him work his way valiantly through two cutlets, 
and survive all the vicissitudes of curried chicken, 
besides light skirmishing, in the shape of pastry and 
cheese, my anxieties took a different form, and the 
serious question arose within me, as to whether the 
alarming gastronomic capabilities which we all evince, 
fostered evidently by long marches in the open air, can 
be provided for on such an expedition as ours, whether 
the commissariat will hold out, and the supply be equal 
to the demand. 

To-morrow being Sunday we halt here, and shall not 
start on our tour in real earnest until Monday. Nor are 
we sorry, for the scene from our camp, looking in a 
northerly direction, is peaceful and lovely in the extreme, 
and we are more than willing to linger in so fair a spot. 



Southwards, however, rises the barren Chakoong, 
frequent landsHps having laid it bare, as well as nume- 
rous watercourses, which scour down its sides in the 
rainy season. Skirting its ridge, a number of little black 
specks are seen, cutting into the sky with sharp outline : 
they are the houses at Jellapahar, the military depot. 
Beneath them extend many thousand feet of sheer pre- 
cipice, and the mountains in this direction are altogether 
unpleasing, the forests having been cut down to give 
place to tea-planting, every hill-side being studded with 
this uninteresting and irrepressible shrub. It is wonderful 
to what an extent this 'fever' prevails. It rages like a 
jfierce epidemic in the neighbourhood of Darjeeling and 
Kursiong, where all who have money — except Govern- 
ment officials, who are prohibited — buy a few acres of 
land, and plunge into tea. Calcutta merchants and retired 
military officers have caught the mania ; and even mis- 
sionaries, sent from a foreign land to convey the everlast- 
ing truth to these ' benighted heathen,' have been known to 
succumb to the contagion, and, leaving their Gospel nets, 

to follow the multitude. F also was once numbered 

amongst the stricken, but, as I said before, men in the 
service of Government are forbidden from entering upon 
any speculation of the kind ; and this I believe alone pre- 
vented our both falling victims to the contagion, for there 
is something very attractive in a planter's life, and I can 
Imagine nothing so free, unfettered, and charming as that 
of these hills, where he has an admirable climate, glorious 



196 THE INDIAN A IPS. 



scenery around him, and plenty of society — for whenever is 
a planter's house void of one or two pleasant guests, and 
where does a guest so completely enjoy himself or feel so 
thoroughly a son aise as there ? Who else can give one 
so good a 'mount?' What merry pic-nics to the valleys! 
What delicious scampers over the mountains ! What 
pleasant gatherings in the evening over cheery wood fires 
still live in my remembrance ! Yet tea-planters have 
a great deal to answer for, in robbing these hills of so 
much of their beauty. 

As the eye turns from civilization, that dire enemy 
of the picturesque, over in the direction of Independent 
Sikkim, where Nature still holds her own, the scene 
changes completely, exhibiting picturesquely wooded 
mountains, and far down the valleys, here and there, little 
patches of fertile pasture land — a great relief after the tea- 
covered hills on the opposite side. 

The sky is almost cloudless, and full of deliciously 

soft light. F reclines at the tent door, smoking, 

and the combined influence of the dinner, the weed, and 
the monotonous humming of bees in the bushes behind 
us, seems to have produced a somnolent effect. He sits, 
his head thrown back, and his eyes shut, the very pic- 
ture of languid content, only opening them occasionally, 
to watch the smoke from his cheroot curl upwards, with 
all the grace it can on such a lazy afternoon, and then 
shutting them again with an expression of greater content- 
ment than before. He is enjoying the dolcc fai' niente. 



DOLCE FAR NIENTE. 



197 



poor fellow, of which he knows so little. Surely, to enjoy, 
and thoroughly appreciate rest, one must have been a 
hard worker. 

I throw myself down at his feet on the long grass 
that is waving gently like a summer sea, and remark 
now and then on the beauty and grandeur that lie 




spread around us. How those fleecy clouds hang lazily 
beneath that mountain peak, lingering on their way as if 
they felt it was time enough to sail when they had wind 
to help them along, but that to-day they meant to take life 
easily, like everything else. Or, See ! how that cloudlet 
has got entangled among the branches of that tope of 
trees yonder, which crowns the summit of the hill, and that 
one there to westward, left far behind its fellows, is lying 
snugly in a sleepy hollow, where it intends apparently 
to remain. I am only answered by a good-tempered half 



198 THE INDIAN AIFS. 

apologetic growl, or at most, a scarcely audible mono- 
syllable ; and he closes his eyes more firmly than before, 
as if to make me understand that though ' speech ' may 
be ' silvern, silence is gold,' 

Overhead the mosquitoes hover in myriads between 
us and the sky, but are too indolent to bite, so long as the 
sun shines. 

* Gnats !' growls F , in reply to my soliloquy that 

I fear they will attack us the very instant it sets ; and 
throwing the end of his cigar away, he subsides into 
sleep. 

From below comes the distant sound of voices, and I 

observe C , his hands buried in the depths of his 

capacious pockets, talking to a little knot of guardsmen ; 
whilst the women-kind come creeping up timidly, to have 
a side-long peep at him. 

But shadows soon begin to lengthen, and everything 
betokens the gradual approach of eventide. The butter- 
flies no longer flit from spray to spray, but go hurry- 
ing off whilst daylight lasts, in quest of ' leafy tents ' 
beneath which to screen themselves from the heavy dews 

of night. C has finished his gossip, and gone for a 

stroll, and the silence is broken only by the distant 
crowing of a cock in the village below, or the dreamy 
chirp of a little bird, still hovering far up in the heavenly 
blue ; and these only seem to add to the stillness of the 
hour. 

Thousands of feet above, the rugged mountains are 



standing- out boldly against the clear sky, now fast fading 
from blue to tender grey. Soft arrows of light dart 
through the thin haze which floats between our camp and 
the distance, and twilight gently falls upon ils, although 
the barely perceptible houses on the ridge of Chakoong 
are still basking in full sunshine, — their windows, con- 
centrating its rays, blazing away like day-stars. 

Darkness does not come on so rapidly here as in the 
tropics, but no sooner has the sun disappeared beneath the 
mountains, than everything changes as if by magic. The 
crimson and yellow lights die out, and nature wraps herself 
in a gloomy mantle of purple and cold grey. The little 
bird descends to his nest in rock or tree, and the vil- 
laeers to their huts, now sendingr forth columns of smoke 

in the preparation of their evening meal. C returns 

from his walk, and F , awaking with a start, is quite 

sure, as day sleepers always are, that he has not been 
asleep at all. 

We all now assemble round the camp-fire, which is 
crackling merrily. There is a chilliness in, the air, and 
its warmth is pleasant. When evening has quite closed 

in, we repair to the dining-tent, and C , producing a 

ponderous volume of Kaye's ' Sepoy War,' reads aloud for 
the ofeneral behoof. But no sooner have we settled our- 
selves, than we are beset by a crowd of insects of all sorts 
and sizes, which come about us like the hosts of Midian. 
Flying ants, green locusts, the latter varying from two 
to three inches in length, and a supremely loathsome 




creature familiarly called ' the carpenter,' but by the na- 
tives ' dene,' and others of a different kind, that look when 
flying like little fat men with their hands in their pockets, 
all make their appearance, attracted by the lamp, which 
they possibly mistake for an untimely moon, and come 
hopping, flying, crawling, as their several modes of progres- 
sion prompt them. They crawl up our sleeves and down 

our necks, and, ah me ! flounder 
about in my hair, for they are 
no respecters of persons or things ; 
whilst from the opposite side of the 
yj^^'^^^^^^^ table I watch the movements of one 
big fellow, on the light fantastic toe, 
-^ =r=r-i^r-=s- pirouetting before me continually, as 
though he were performing for my especial amusement. 
By its side is an insect of the graver sort, a praying mantis 
{Mantis religiosa) — if anything of such gigantic propor- 
tions can reasonably be called an insect, whose body, not 
counting its horns, is three inches long if it is one ; nor do 

I exaggerate, for has not F many of them as large, 

and larger too, in his cabinet at home ? but IMPALED, 
thank heavens ! their bodies safely stuffed with cotton 
wool. 

The above signification is given to this insect on ac- 
count of the curious position it assumes. Raising the two 
front legs, or rather arms, it elevates its long thorax 
likewise, and moves the head from side to side in a con- 
tinuous see-saw motion. It is very amusing to watch 



rVE PASS A PLEASANT EVENING! 



20I 



from a respectful distance, and all are doubtless alike 
charming- to the entomologist; but I, at any rate, have 
not come out to study natural history under this form, 
and matters growing worse as their numbers increase, 
we are oblitred at last to take refuo^e in the darkness of 
our own tent. But our troubles even here are not 
altogether at an end, for we are followed by mosquitoes, 
w^hich attack us unmercifully. Having been residents 
of the mountains for so long a time, we are quite unac- 
customed to these little bloodthirsty tormentors of the 

lower elevations ; but I console F by saying they are 

only the ' gnats ' which were sporting above our heads 
so inoffensively in the afternoon, and I fall asleep at last, 
wondering whether, after all, travelling in the Himalaya 
is so very delightful as I anticipated. 




D D 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



THE RIMMAM. 



Opening my tent door at peep of day, before the camp is 
astir, I let in the pure morning air. The flowers are 
trembhng under their weight of dew, and pale vapours 
still hang in the valleys, waiting the sun's rising to bear 
them upwards. Reclining within my little tabernacle, I 
watch it ascend behind the hill tops like a ball of fire, 
when the mists melt away beneath its thirsty beams, to 
fall again at eve, perhaps, upon some more distant valley, 
in nature's wondrous cycle. 

It is Sunday, and breakfast over we have a short 
Service in the dining tent, and later in the day go down to 
the Rimmam, of whose beauties we had all heard so much ; 

C , in anticipation of our visit, having dispatched 

a detachment of coolies last evening, to clear the narrow 
pathway from jungle, with which it was completely 
overgrown. Starting at 3 p.m. — I in my dandy, and the 
gentlemen walking — we descend for a considerable dis- 
tance through a copse, till we come to the ridge of a 
mountain, which stretches along for half a mile, and 
separates the valley of the Rimmam from that of the 



Chota Rungheet. So narrow Is this ridge, that we can 
see the valleys, two thousand feet below, on either side, 
without changing our position in the least. 

Through that to the left, the broad Rimmam is seen, 
wending its way over its rough bed of ' gneiss,' to swell 
the waters of the Great Rungheet, and flowing onwards 
with a dignified and subdued roar, as though it felt it had 
a duty to perform, and meant to do it conscientiously. 
To the right winds the Chota Rungheet, an offspring, 
I believe, of the river of the same name, which I de- 
scribed in a former chapter. How it babbles and frets 
itself into waves, shuffling along in a fussy and con- 
sequential manner, as most small things do, not only 
covering its banks with foam, but dodging in and out, 
and forcing its way into nooks and corners, where it 
would seem to have no business whatever ; sometimes 
rushing into the very heart of the forest, and creating little 
islands of solitary trees ; then again forming the letter S 
in its gambols, and flirting with the stones on its margin, 
coquetting like a young thing that never knows its own 
mind ! And what a noise it makes in its onward pro- 
gress ; till, fairly tired out, it sleeps in the forest awhile 
where the shade is thickest, but only to show itself again 
further on in the distance, as sportive and restless as 
before ! 

The trunks of the sol trees here are covered with 
epiphytical ferns, whose fronds, extremely rigid, measure 
four or five feet in length. Each tree is encircled by 



204 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

several of these singular coronets, which from a distance 
have all the appearance of gigantic shuttlecocks. 

At length we follow the extreme edge of a rocky 
precipice, and the path becomes very dangerous ; but soon 
after this we reach the white banks of the Rimmam, 
where tall trees, rich in foliage and flowering climbers, 
are growing in tangled masses close to its margin. 

The river winds through a narrow gorge, and the 
surroundings are wild and beautiful in the extreme, 
grandeur alternating with the picturesque ; for the moun- 
tains, although very precipitous, are clothed with magnifi- 
cent forest, whose exquisite gradation of green baffles 
all description, relieved, were relief necessary, by large 
boulders of brown ' gneiss ' which project everywhere ; 
whilst a peak, twelve thousand feet high, dominates and 
seems to sentinel the whole. But time is on the wing, and 
we have to turn our backs upon all this beauty almost as 
soon as we behold it, for our return cannot occupy less 
than two hours. Casting therefore one lingering glance 
around, to impress the scene if possible more deeply on 
the memory, I resume my seat in my dandy, and we 
wend our way slowly upwards to our encampment, which 
we reach in the twilight. 

The first objects that arrest our attention are our three 
ponies, which the syces had brought across during the day, 
the torrent having subsided. Greatly to our surprise, too, 
we find an addition to our camp in the person of a young 
Bhootia woman, the wife of one of my bearers. 



IVB STRIKE TENTS. 



205 



Fanchyng — that was not quite her name, but it is as 
nearly Hke it as I could ascertain, and is the one by 
which she will be known hereafter — would be good-look- 
ing but for the flatness of her face. 'Her dress, however, 
like that of all her race, is pretty, with plenty of colour in 




it, so that she makes by no means an unpleasing picture 
in the landscape. 

The morning was lovely on which we struck tents, 
and set forth on our first march towards the frontier of 

Nepaul, where C , hoping to combine a little official 

business with pleasure, expects to meet three diplomatic 
agents from the court of Jung Bahadoor, to inspect the 
boundary line between Nepaul and British territory, 
which has become somewhat ill-defined in consequence 
of the natives having destroyed the pillars, or landmarks, 
in search of treasure, which they imagined to have been 
originally buried beneath them. 

The country through which we pass is highly culti- 



2o6 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



vated, the mountain steeps, where practicable, being cut 
into terraces — a very favourite mode of cultivation with 
the Nepaulese, who are rather scientific agriculturists. 
Indeed, terracing is the only manner of culture possible 
in these mountainous districts. Our road takes us throucfh 



^^v 










two pretty little villages, surrounded by hills covered with 
millet and bhoota, cultivated in like manner. Nothing 
could be more snug and peaceful than these homesteads, 
the women, as usual, models of industry, either spinning 
or weaving bright-coloured fabrics in their triangular 



VILLAGES NEAR THE FRONTIER OF NEPAUL. 207 

looms. Work of every kind, however, is suspended as 
we arrive. They descend from their huts and surround 
our people, asking the news — for have they not come 
from the big world, and are they not citizens of that great 
Babylon, Darjeeling ? 

The mothers, too, hold up their children for our in- 
spection, which they here carry in ' sarees,' slung round 
the neck ; whilst their little heads dangling outside sway 
backwards and forwards in a way that would soon make 
jelly of the brains of an English child. When a little older 
they are carried upon the hip, and it is amusing to see 
how the tiny creatures hold on, even when the mother's 
arms are both occupied. She merely gives them a 
maternal shove, now and again, as she trips along, hold- 
ing a basket on her head with one hand and a ' lota ' 
in the other, and they cling to her side like monkeys. 

In the centre of each village we observed a cluster of 
many-coloured flags suspended on long bamboo poles, 
indicating the existence of a temple consecrated to their 
Deity; the temple itself being a building with two or 
three roofs, thatched like the surrounding huts, but each 
roof becoming smaller as it approaches the top, after 
the manner of a pagoda ; whilst the flags were covered 
with writings in an unknown tongue, containing portions 
of the Hindoo scriptures translated into Thibetan or 
Nepaulese. 

Close to our path was a shed, in which an old 
man, contrary to all custom, was grinding alone at the 



2o8 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

conventional mill — that operation being confined all over 
India, as in olden times, to women. The old patriarch, 
as he ground away, kept shaking his head perpetually ; 
perhaps he was afflicted with the palsy, but, under the 
circumstances, it gave one the idea that he was moralising 
on the gossiping propensities of women. 

Our climb over, we find ourselves on an open moor, 
surrounded by blue and rugged mountains, and see the 
men of our camp, in ' pictorial rags ' and single file, hurry- 
ing on before us — a procession which extends for fully 
half a mile. 

We reach camping ground at five o'clock, and having 
made a considerable ascent the greater part of the way, are 
once more in sight of the Snows, which we were unable 
to see at Goke, but which greeted us like old friends the 
moment we reached the top of the hill, or rather moun- 
tain, for we are again at an altitude of six thousand 
feet. 

Below, in a pretty hollow, our tents are pitched, in 
readiness for our arrival ; and at seven o'clock we dine. 
After dinner, great progress is made in the ' Sepoy War,' 
insect life being less abundant than at our last place of 
encampment ; but although this is the case, we have a 
new sensation in the shape of frogs. Really in these 
days our experiences remind one of the seven plagues 
of Egypt. They do not enter our tents, happily, but con- 
gregate outside in myriads, the sound they produce being 
precisely that of an infinite number of policemen's rattles. 



A FROG AND GRASSHOPPER CONCERT. 209 

As the chirp of the grasshopper is united with it, the din 
becomes ahnost unbearable ; and one feels persuaded, from 
the deafening noise they make, that there cannot be a single 
inch of ground for many miles that does not possess its own 
particular frog and its own peculiar grasshopper. Occa- 
sionally all stop, without any apparent rhyme or reason, 
when the silence becomes almost painful, the ear having 
grown accustomed to the sound. Then suddenly, as if 
by word of command, all begin again ; and so on till dawn 
appears, when the chorus gradually subsides. 




^^^'i-es in th 



H t'f"^^ "^«'y-5fV, 



E E 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE LAST SWEET THING IN BOOTS. 

The next thing which strikes a person unaccustomed 
to tent Hfe, is the way each article of furniture has 
of adapting- and accommodating itself to its circum- 
stances. Tables, never suspected of having joints, 
fold into such a wonderfully small compass, that one 
could almost carry them in one's pocket ; couches 
double up like chess-boards, lamps take to pieces and 
fit into boxes, which look utterly incapable of containing 
them. In short, nothing retains its own individuality, 
but becomes for the nonce something else which it never 
was intended to be. 

Folding tents at ten o'clock, we make for Mount 
Tongloo, our first halting place on the Singaleelah Range. 
As we approach it, the sides of the mountains become 
better wooded ; and after an hour's march through blazing 
sunshine, we enter a forest, and a steep climb is before us. 

To those who have never witnessed the marvellous 
luxuriance, beauty, and picturesqueness of the primeval 
forests of the Himalaya, any faithful description must 
seem an exaggeration, where trees, in every stage of youth, 



JV/i HALT IN A FOREST. 211 

maturity, and slow decay, have been left since the crea- 
tion to germinate, and grow, and wither, and die, wholly 
untouched by the hand of man. Here and there stand 
dead trees : who shall venture to conjecture even, how 
many centuries they have been thus standing ? Their 
hollow trunks not only form the home of the wild 
deer, but furnish a covert for the more tender kinds 
of ferns and orchids, which, like sentient things, have 
sought shelter within them from the wind and weather. 
Fallen trees lie everywhere, and these are hidden, except 
in form, by lycopodia of emerald green, with which the 
ground is carpeted more than ankle deep. And when 
I speak of lycopodia, do not picture to your imagination 
the fragile, stunted, and effete productions you see in 
greenhouses in England, but rigid masses of vegetation 
stretching out their broad fans, and covering everything 
with a garment of living luscious green. In other places 
the ground is taken possession of by the stag moss (thus 
named from its keen resemblance to antlers), which trails 
along the ground whole yards in length. Climbers of 
rich amber, and red, and green, wave like banners over 
head, and nature revels in every variety of form and 
colour. The sun, as if jealous of exclusion from this 
fair Eden, struggles to gain entrance, and glinting side- 
ways through the thick foliage, dapples all things far 
and near with patches of golden light. 

We halt here to give our ponies rest — 1, too, have 
ridden to-day ; and throwing ourselves on nature's carpet. 



THE INDIAN AIFS. 




we watch the fire being kindled, and the water boiled 
for tea, than which nothing is half so refreshing or in- 
vigorating to travellers in these regions, no matter what 
may be the time of day ; whilst the smoke curling upwards, 
the red glow of the fire, the bright-robed figures sitting 
round it, some smoking, and some chatting, make a mar- 
vellously picturesque scene, and create a perfect festival 

of colour. Then the bag- 
gage coolies overtake us, 
clothed in their parti-coloured 
garments of red, brown, pur- 
ple, and orange, of which 
, '-" some portion of their dress 
'"^ is always composed, contrast- 
ing wonderfully with the prevailing green around. Our 
shepherd too passes us, heading a little procession of 
quadrupeds, whose destiny is mutton ; also a cow and calf, 
which, slowly following, nibble the succulent herbage as 
they go along. Sometimes the tired coolies may be seen 
resting their loads, without removing them from their 
shoulders, by placing the strong staff which each one 
carries for the purpose, beneath the load to support it, thus 
taking the weight off himself. Indeed, wherever one 
looks there is a subject for a picture. But the longest, and, 
as our people assure us, the most difficult, part of our 
march lies before us ; so, gathering up travelling bags 
and shouting for ponies, we are again under weigh. 

Proceeding onwards by a gradual ascent, we enter 



THE LAST SWEET THING IN BOOTS. 213 

what in these mountains is termed a 'dripping forest,' for 
at some elevations cloud and vapour, almost perpetually 
driving through them, hang about the tops of the trees, 
and cause them to drip with moisture. In such forests, 
transparent ferns of various kinds grow epiphytically, the 
trunks and branches of the trees being literally hidden 
in some instances by these ' children of the mist.' They 
are as transparent as tissue paper, and of an exceedingly 
dark but vivid green, and of the innumerable lovely 
things which nature has lavished upon this highly favoured 
land, they are, I think, the loveliest of all. 

After a short time the path becomes so exceedingly 
steep, that progress is by no means easy, and, a little 
further still, an almost perpendicular ascent awaits us. 
Trees are growing upon it, but their roots are so 
exposed from the washing away of the earth during the 
rains, that it is a marvel how they manage to maintain 
any hold on the soil at all. Here we leave our ponies, 
which appear to have almost more than they can do to 
scramble up themselves. The poor little beasts have 
already been on their knees so often, as the loose stones 
and earth gave way beneath their feet, that even had it 
been less steep, we should have preferred our alpenstocks. 
The task of climbing had been rendered comparatively 

easy, as far as I was concerned, by F , who before 

our departure conceived the very original idea of my 
wearing ' mocassins,' not only as being warm and 
comfortable to the feet, but also as an assistance in 



climbing. These mocassins are of Bhootia manufacture, 
and made of different pieces of coloured cloth, firmly 
stitched together in grotesque patterns, the soles, which 
are half an inch thick, being of closely knitted twine. 
The Bhootias, except when very poor, invariably wear 
these articles of attire ; and very great was the general 
amusement on starting this morning, to behold the 
* mem sahib' thus equipped for the climb. 

C^^l^ Having been made ex- 

^^^ m'' 1 o '^^^y magnificent in the 

'^^^^"^^^^Tplfj^^ _ /^^^^ A, matter of device and colour ; 
'w^^^^g^^^^^^^^^p but, I pray you ! look at the 

ankle, from a side view, and tell me whether the bare 
fact of my ever consenting to wear them at all, does not 
manifest a total absence of female vanity, and a perfect 
indifference to external appearances. I must confess, 
however, that I get on famously with them, although 
I am oblisfed to climb on hands and knees in some 
places, where there are no roots, or branches of trees, 
to hold out friendly hands to help one up. As one stops 
to breathe occasionally, how singular it is to look above 
and below, and watch the coolies, with their picturesque 
baskets, toiling upwards, but shouting with laughter, for 
these simple mountaineers are always merry and light- 
hearted, and nothing daunted by fatigue. 

Nearing the summit of the mountain, we are greeted 



TENT- PITCHING. 



215 



by the welcome sound of the hammering of tent-pegs into 
the ground, which assures us that we cannot be far from 
encampment. A Httle further cHmb, and we see our tents 
being pitched, and, quite as welcome a sight to moun- 
taineers — for these bracing breezes are sadly provocative 
of hunger — the evening repast once more in course of 
preparation. 

It is wonderful in how short a time all is quiet and 
repose in camp ; but unless we are fortunate enough to 
arrive after tents are pitched, the scene seems one of 
hopeless confusion. Some seventy men may be seen tear- 
ing about in all directions like maniacs — some hurrying 
off to fetch water ; some cutting down wood for fires ; 
others clearing the ground for the tents, the whole opera- 
tion accompanied by a tremendous hubbub and confusion 
of tongues. There is a perfect chorus of shouts and yells ; 
and as these nomad races, belonging to the southern class 
of the Turanian family, have each a separate language of 
their own, the Babel can be easily imagined. Neither do 
these Arabs 'fold up their tents and silently steal away,' for 
the breaking up of camp is an equally noisy process. But 
in an almost incredibly short space of time after reaching 
encampment, tents are not only pitched, but furnished ; the 
little striped ' dhurries,' or carpets, are laid down, stoves 
lighted — for we are now at an altitude where fires are 
necessary — kettles boiling over them, and everything 
wearing as snug an appearance as possible. 

On starting, we were told we should reach Mount 



2i6 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

Tongloo to-day, but instead of this, we now learn that it is 
still fully ten miles distant, and we are encamped in 
forest so dense and impenetrable, that not a glimpse of 
sky can be seen. As soon as evening approaches, but long 
before it has fairly set in, we are consequently surrounded 
by Cimmerian darkness. We dine by lamplight, and 
then sit outside, watching the gleaming of the camp hres 
throughout the forest, which they illumine far and near. 
Mysterious figures, looking black and weird against the 
red light, flit to and fro, now appearing, now disappearing 
into the darkness again, like demons of the glade. We 
count no fewer than seventeen of these fires, exclusive of 
the one round which we are sitting, and the effect of the 
whole is more wild and witch-like than I can find words 
to describe. 

In another hour the whole camp has assumed an 
attitude of repose, and everyone lies stretched at full 
length upon the ground. Time passes as we sit tran- 
quilly discoursing, till the only sound that breaks the 
stillness is that of the subdued voices of those who are 
not yet slumbering, and the cracking of the wood as it 
slowly burns away. 



'FAREWELL TO THE FOREST: 217 



CHAPTER XXI. 

A GLIMPSE OF THE ' CKLESTIAL CITY.' 

The following morning at the usual hour we struck 
tents and began our march, singing Mendelssohn's ' Fare- 
well to the Forest,' and after two hours' further climb 
were glad to find ourselves in the open, where we could 
once more breathe freely. Coming to a narrow but 
well-trodden pathway, which we had to follow for some 
considerable distance, we were led to conjecture that we 
must be approaching some village ; nor were we wrong, 
for, crossing a deliciously clear mountain stream on our 
ponies, we entered a ' sacred grove.' Here we were met 
by a motley group of women, apparently in holiday attire. 
They had probably seen our approach from a distance, 

or been informed of it by C 's advanced guard of 

sappers, as we call them —coolies wdio invariably precede 
us by some hours, to cut down jungle, clear paths, or make 
them where none exist, the latter being generally the case. 
A ' sacred grove ' is nothing more or less than a piece 
of primeval forest left undisturbed, usually standing in 
an open space, to which pilgrimages are made, and 
which we desecrate, not only by halting in it, but by 

F F 



2l8 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



ordering the immediate preparation of a very substan- 
tial 'tiffin.' Then, feehng in a more genial frame of 
mind, I walk along to the women, who are watching us 
with much curiosity from some little distance, and 

through Narboo, an interpreter whom C has brought 

in his retinue, I am able to some extent to exchange 
civilities. 




At first I can get nothing out of them, one and all 
covering their faces shyly with their ' sarees ; ' but when 
I have proved myself tame by the sacrifice of a few silver 
coins, they become more communicative, and, approaching 
closely, proceed to make a minute examination of my 
dress ; upon which I request them to show me their 
jewellery, these daughters of Eve being heavily laden 
with massive silver ornaments, in the shape of bangles, 
ear-rings, anklets, and ceintures round the neck and 



JV£ HALT IN A SACRED GROVE. 219 

waist, from which the usual amulets are suspended, con- 
taining sacred relics. ' Fine feathers ' do not make 
* fine birds ' in this instance, however, for the women 
themselves are exceedingly ugly, far more so than usual, 
having strongly marked Tartar features. 

F and C now join me, and, standing in their 

helmets in the centre of the group, they look like Chris- 
tian and F'aithful in ' Vanity Fair.' 

Leaving the ' sacred grove ' behind, we presently 
reach the region of ' hill bamboo,' a small species, the 
canes of which are scarcely more than an inch in dia- 
meter. Wherever the eye wanders no other tree is 
visible ; and we have very soon to make our way through 
a forest of it, the narrow path being damp and slushy 
with black mud, as the sun's rays never penetrate the 
thick mass of feathery foliage, which forms a perfect 
arch above our heads. In some places the path is so 
entirely choked with the wilderness of straight stems, 
that we cannot see a yard before us, and the whole is 
dark and vault-like, each cane being covered with a 
damp moss, whilst the atmosphere itself is satu- 
rated with moisture. Not a bird or insect seems to live 
within it, and the only sound that greets us is the 
crashing and cracking of the canes, as we fight our 
way along. On this occasion I take care to make my 
bearers keep well up with the gentlemen, for the gloom 
is painfully oppressive, and I would fain not be alone. 
They are, of course, walking, the foliage in some places 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



hanging too low to admit of their passing under it on their 
ponies. On one or two occasions my dandy itself gets so 
hopelessly jammed, that those who are off duty have lite- 
rally to cut the canes away before we can be released. 




But all this is great fun to the merry-hearted Lepchas, 
who become quite uproarious in their mirth. 

With our conventional English notions concerning 
the bearing of the lower classes to the upper, and also 
from our experience of the almost servile and effeminate 
manners of the Bengalee, it takes some little time to 



NA UTCH- IV A LLAH. 221 



accustom oneself to the familiarity of these hill men, and to 
their noisy behaviour towards each other in our presence ; 
but one soon learns to regard them as so many over- 
grown children, perfectly easy of control, simple-minded 
and gentle of heart, a people who will not shrink even 
from personal danger to do you a kindness. 

We are all more or less affected by our surroundings ; 
and just as the sailor who has his ' business on the 
mighty waters ' is, as a rule, more open to good influ- 
ences, and more ready to do a kind and generous action, 
than other men, so these mountaineers, surrounded as 
they are from morn till eve by scenes of such surpassing 
grandeur, possess natures bold, rugged, and incapable of 
the meanness and cowardice often seen in the dwellers 
of the plains, to whom they are in almost every respect 
infinitely superior. 

The greater number of my bearers belong to the 
Lepcha tribe ; but two amongst them are Bhootias, one of 
whom we call Hatti (elephant), on account of his great size 
and strength. He is unquestionably the tallest and most 
powerful man I ever saw ; the other is almost equally tall, 
but of slighter build, and to him we have given the sou- 
briquet of Nautch-wallah (dancer). This latter fellow pos- 
sesses the most exuberant and irresistible spirits, and 
when not engaged in carrying my dandy, beguiles the 
way by dancing in advance of us like Pan, or some old 
satyr, In the happy days of Arcadia, accompanying his 
gyrations with shouts and snatches of wild Thibetan song. 



THE INDIAN A IPS. 



Though a Bhootia, he has much more of the merry 
Lepcha in his composition than is usual in his class. He 
possesses their twinkling, laughing eye, and their keen 
sense of the ludicrous, and had cut a hole in the top of 
his conical Chinese cap, evidently for the sole purpose of 
enabling his hair, which he wears in a 
knot, to pass through it, and add to 
his otherwise grotesque appearance. 

There are also two Lepchas 

amongst my bearers in whom I take 

especial interest. The former, a poor 

half-witted creature, we call Tatters, 

and they themselves Pugla- wallah 

(fool) ; the other, a pretty, effeminate- 

u^cflla/t looking litde man, with large con- 

^ nr/>ose^ templative eyes like a Brahmin cow, 

I have surnamed Rags, as his own name is utterly 

unpronounceable. 

Most of their names, however, are pretty much alike, 
which is exceedingly puzzling and perplexing, as nearly 
all of them end in ' oo.' Thus we have already in our 
camp Atchoo, and Googoo, and Joojoo, and Fanchoo, and 
Jumnoo, and Nimboo, and Narboo, and Catoo, and 
Kidderoo, and any other number of ' oos ' you please. 

By this time I have discovered that the having bearers 
of different heights is a wise arrangement in these 
undulating wilds, for, when ascending, the short men 
invariably carry the front pole, and the tall ones the 




hinder, and vice versa, changing positions as circum- 
stances require, so that, except in very steep gra- 
dients, my dandy is seldom very much out of the hori- 
zontal. 

Still ascending, we come into the region of rhodo- 
dendron trees of enormous size. Travelling at this time 
of year, we unfortunately lose most of the forest flowers, 
both the magnolia and rhododendron blooming in April ; 
but we pass many daphne, or ' paper ' trees, as they are 
proverbially called, and these at some elevations greet us 
with their luscious perfume even before we approach 
them. The Nepaulese manufacture paper very exten- 
sively from this tree, an art which was well known 
amongst the Ancients, who produced it from the liber, or 
inner bark, of trees. 

And now at last we reach the summit of Mount 
Tongloo, and descry our encampment a little beneath it 
on the other side. 

What a pretty scene it is to look down upon, that 
busy, hurrying hive ! — the spot they have chosen being 
a little hollow, that seems to have been scooped out of 
the mountain by some giant hand. The ground is 
covered with long grass, which, together with the higher 
ridges, is studded with the blossoms of the immortelle, 
its little white flowers, and scarcely less white leaves, 
giving to everything the appearance of hoar-frost. 

At this elevation — 10,000 feet above sea level — we 
naturally expect wondrous views of mountain and vale ; 



2 24 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



but to the north all is hidden in mist, whilst from the west 
we are completely shut out by the still greater heights 
of Nepaul. Nothing daunted, however, we all set off, after 
a short rest, to ascend them, and soon find ourselves 
standing upon the frontier of that country, overlooking 
its ' Terai ' — the almost boundless plains. 

We had ascended the heights in a westerly direction, 
and were struck speechless when, on turning round, we 
beheld a scene described by one who has visited the 
four quarters of the globe as ' unequalled in grandeur 
and magnificence in the whole world of God's creation,' 
the stupendous pile of snow seeming within a day's 
march. 

In one long line, stretching away as far as eye can 
reach, peak rises above peak in 'spotless procession.' 
In the centre, as if guardian of the whole, Kinchin- 
junga, with a dignity not of earth, rears its glittering 
crest, extending upwards, till there seems to be no 
separate earth or heaven, but both are joined in one. 
Flanking it on either side are peaks of somewhat lesser 
magnitude ; to the right, Pundeem, its stately and 
almost severe form crossing diagonally the vast glacial 
valley of Kinchin. Further still to the right, rises the 
graceful and delicate outline of Nursyng, its jagged pin- 
nacles, one above another, looking like giant steps, all 
culminating in the needle-like point that forms its 
summit. 

To the left, or westward, the massive Kubra rears its 



MOUNT TONGLOO. 225 



head, 24,000 feet in height, and Jumnoo 20,000, domi- 
nating numerous smaller peaks at its base. Beyond 
these, really forming one unbroken line, although hidden 
from this spot by the pine-clad summits of the Singa- 
leelah range, are the snowy peaks of Nepaul, the loftiest 
of which, Mount Everest, 29,000 feet, is the highest 
mountain in the world ; Kinchinjunga, exceeding 28,000 
feet, being the next in rank.^ 

Nearer, are the mountains of the Sub- Himalaya, 
Pemionchi, Powhenny, Hee, and others, rising in ' wavy 
curvature.' Beneath these flow torrents over debris 
hurled from the heights above. 

Far awa}' eastward, in the soft distance, hidden by 
mist but a few minutes ago, but now exposed to view, as 
though some magic hand had withdrawn the veil, heave 
the delicately lovely snows of Thibet, the most con- 
spicuous of which, and certainly the most singular in 
form of the whole vast region of peaks, is Chumalari, 
23,900 feet. 

Below the line of perpetual congelation are deep chasms 
— gashes in the solid rock, caused either by water- 
courses of melted snow, wearing it away in successive 
ages ; or by the rending force of earthquakes, which are 
frequently felt even at Darjeeling, many houses bearing 
marks of their violence in cracks several inches wide, which 

1 Almost ever>' map has a different spelling for this latter mountain. It 
is occasionally spelt Kanchanjanga, Kunchinjunga, and Kinchinjinga ; but 
I have adhered to the local pronunciation and spelling of the word. 

G G 



226 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

in some instances have severed the walls from top to 
bottom. Two years ago, in consequence of a severe shock 
of one of these terrible convulsions of nature, the church 
fell. A year later, the outer wall of one of the 
strongest houses in the station, the private residence of 
the Head-Master of St. Paul's School, was levelled to 
the ground from the effects of a previous shock, for 
about this time we were visited by a succession of 
earthquakes, no less than five occurring within the space 
of two months. 

Whilst gazing on the snowy world around us, an in- 
describable something creeps over the scene — a some- 
thing one feels, rather than actually sees — a kind of 
palpable silence. 

It is the moment of the sun's farewell : he has this 
instant sunk below the highest peak, and Earth begins to 
mourn his departure. For one brief period colour fades ; 
then, gathering up her forces, she speeds him on his 
way with high festival of gorgeous colour, and the whole 
becomes one shimmering sea of crystal, in which are 
golden cities, with towers of jasper and onyx, and shin- 
ing fortresses, and minarets, and ' many mansions ; ' and 
I felt as though, like Christian standing on the De- 
lectable Mountains, I saw the vision of the Celestial 
City. Far beneath, the rocky billows upon which less 
snow is lying, are wrapt in every soft gradation of 
bronze and crimson, gradually melting into violet ; thence 
into dark blue, till deeper, deeper still, the saddened 



MOUNT TONGLOO. 227 

earth, mourning in secret, clothes herself in a sombre 
garb of grey, and all colour is lost in the dark and silent 
valleys, where a belt of white vapour shrouds the rivers 
as they flow. 

We stood entranced, none of us breaking silence, our 
feelings too deep for utterance. As we watched the opal 
lights die out, one by one, that solemn, death-like pallor 
crept over them, which only those who have seen the sun 
set on perpetually snow-clad mountains, or stood in a 
chamber visited by the ' beckoning angel,' just when the 
soul has passed away, can imagine. I shudder involun- 
tarily, for we seem surrounded by a pale world of death, 
and we all now turn away, glad to hear our own voices 
and view other scenes. 

Walking to the verge of the plateau, southwards, we 
look down upon the plains of Nepaul, stretching away 
into the very sky, for a miasmatic mist is lying like a 
quivering belt along the horizon, and both are softly 
blended into one. 

Broad shining rivers — like fairy streamlets at this 
distance — intersect the whole expanse, and wind away 
till they too are lost in the misty horizon, now growing 
colder and more dim in the fast-increasing twilight, and 
everything is exquisitely soft and dreamy. Pale stars, 
too, begin to steal out timidly, as though the)^ were not 
quite sure it is time to shine, or as if dazzled by the loner 
red streak of remaining day which still lingers in the 
western sky. 



2 28 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

Then through the sweet evening stillness the mur- 
mur of distant voices reaches us from our camp, and 
for once we turn a deaf ear to the announcement, soon 
made, that dinner awaits our return. Hungry, as, alas ! 
we always are, we actually tarried to w^orship, till a 
chilliness creeping over us compelled us to descend. 

Dinner ended, F goes out to smoke his cheroot 

over the fire, which is burning merrily close to the dining- 

tent ; and C follows him, not in his ' vicious ' habit, 

however, for he is no smoker, but to prolong an argu- 
ment they got into whilst sitting over their wine ; and I 
wander about the camp like an unquiet ghost. Presently 
the moon glides up behind the rhododendron trees ; and 
feeling sure I shall not be missed if I climb the heights 
once more, to see how all looks by moonlight, I summon 
Fanchyng, to whose ministrations I had some days ago 
committed myself, and who bids fair, with a slight 
amount of teaching, to become a rough but useful ayah ; 
and off we start, as free as air, never thinking of such 
unpleasant possibilities as bears, which I believe do occa- 
sionally roam the mountains at this elevation, for in these 
days I knew no fear. 

The stars are wide awake by this time^ and, notwith 
standing the moon's rivalry, shining like diamonds in the 
sapphire heavens. But the snows, as I feared would be 
the case, are entirely hidden by the white vapour which 
we had observed lying far down the valleys earlier in 
the evening, and which was now hanging in spectral and 




H 









"~1 



THE PLAINS OF NEPAUL. 229 

shadowy masses about the peaks ; while the moon, throw- 
ing a shower of silver over objects far and near, and illu 
minating rock, and bush, and tree, casts shadows deep 
and mysterious everywhere. 

What a change had come over the spirit of the scene 
since I first beheld it ! Colour is truly music to the eye, 
yet moonlight has a language all its own, speaking to the 
heart with a more peaceful and refined utterance. It is 
the sadder music of the minor tone, inexpressibly tender, 
calling up higher thoughts, and purer aspirations than 
merry, laughing sunshine ever can. 

Walking over the crisp sward — for it is freezing hard 

— I recall to memory a Greek poem F once read and 

translated forme, about ' Holy Night ;' and reaching the 
edge of the plateau, with Fanchyng by my side, I find 
myself looking again over the broad expanse of plains, 
now vague and indistinct as dream-land. The rivers, 
threading their silent way like bands of silver, are but 
just visible, whilst the nearer mountains of Nepaul, 
rising out of the plains, being covered with a thin veil 
of atmosphere, seem hovering between earth and sky. 

Fearing that my absence would be discovered if I 

delayed longer, and that F might be thrown into a 

state of alarm in consequence, we hastily retrace our 
steps, treading down at every foot-fall the little white 
blossoms of immortelle, which, glistening beneath their 
crystals of hoar-frost, look like myriads of tiny asteroids. 

I find on reaching camp that my absence has not 



230 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



been discovered. Both F and C are still sitting 

where I left them ; and, F 's cigar finished, they have 

muffled themselves up in rugs and shawls, in such strange 
gipsy-like fashion, that, as they lean over the fire in 
eager confab, their dark figures have a curiously weird 
effect, needing only a cauldron to make them the personi- 
fication of the witches in Macbeth. 




As I entered the tent, and took up a book to beguile 
the time, something fell to the ground that had been lying 
between its pages, but which I had until that instant even 
forgotten I possessed. It was a withered flower, given me 
by old Gwallah, one of which she said she always carried 
about her as a charm, there being some tradition con- 
nected with Budh concerning the kind of tree upon 



which it grew. It was only a flower ; but it looked so 
cold, and lifeless, and sad, that it sent a shudder thrilling 
through me, as such things sometimes will, recalling 
to my recollection Lattoo, whom I had strangely for- 
gotten of late, amidst the perpetually changeful scenes 
and daily incidents of travel. 

The morning on which we were to leave Darjeeling, 
I had gone down to wish a friend good-bye, and was 
slowly returning homewards, stopping to take breath 
occasionally, for the path was steep, or turning back to 
look upon the scene below, which was ever new to me 
— the houses of the residents crowning the mountain 
summits, or dotting their slopes, with the peaceful val- 
leys lying at their feet — when some one tapped me on 
the shoulder. 

' How you frightened me, G wallah ! ' I exclaimed. 
' You shouldn't come suddenly upon one in that way.' 

' The mem sahib is going away,' she replied myste- 
riously, *and things are not well down there,' pointing in 
the direction of the distant valley where Lattoo had her 
home. * I scold and scold, and call her stcsti and biLd- 
mash (idle and wicked) ; but I would not lose my girl, 
mem sahib, for all that. I would not lose my girl,' she 
added, with faltering voice ; and then, continuing almost 
in a whisper — for the tears were falling fast : 

' What good would this poor life be without her ? 
Haven't I seen her grow up before me ; ay, and her 
mother too, ever since she was that high ?' 



232 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

'Well, but what is going to happen to Lattoo?' I 
inquired. 

' The mem sahib hasn't noticed, then, how pale and 
thin she's been growing of late ? She's sickening with a 
biindrt, of which her mother died, that's all.' 

* Nonsense, Gwallah. There isn't much the matter 
with Lattoo ; why, I saw her only two evenings ago.' 

' What I say is true, mem sahib. Last night I 
killed a moorghee, and the blood trickled this way and 
that way, and then met together there' — describing a 
circle in the soil with her stick — ' and that means ' 

* Hush !' I said; for I knew what she was going to 
say. ' What a people you are for omens ! ^ ' 

* But there are tokens, mem sahib, that never deceive.' 
I was in a hurry, and could not talk with her longer ; 

so, as I wished her ' good-bye,' she took from her bosom 
this withered flower. Her words awakened a painful 
train of thought, and I must have unconsciously placed 
the flower within the pages of the book which I happened 
to have with me. 

' Fowls are frequently made use of by these superstitious people as me- 
diums to forecast events ; no marriage taking place without one being placed 
in the hands of the bride and another in that of the bridegroom. The 
heads of the fowls are then cut off by the priest, and the blood is caught in 
a banana leaf, the omens being gathered from the direction it takes, as 
well as from the various forms it assumes. 



MOUNT TONGLOO. 233 



CHAPTER XXIL 



THE BENGALEE BABOO, 



ToNGLOO is situated in an exceedingly exposed position, 
and the predictions we each expressed on retiring- last 
evening to our respective tents, that we were going to 
have a ' night of it,' are fully realised. It required no 
ordinary courage to get up this morning when Catoo, 
our head-man, came shouting outside my tent, 'Mem 
sahib ! me7n sahib I Paunch bajd hai ' (it is five o'clock). 

I thrust my nose outside the rugs, and felt an inci- 
pient chilblain take possession of it on the spot. I had re- 
quested Catoo to call me at this hour, he having previously 
warned me that the only chance of seeing the snowy range 
of Nepaul — a view of which may be obtained at rather a 
higher elevation than we ascended yesterday — is at sun- 
rise ; and having ordered my dandy-bearers to be in 
attendance, I am determined to be firm with myself. 

Accordingly, after ' chota hazree,' ^ and the thawing 
influences of a cup of tea, I venture to leave the tent, 
and observe the white frost lying on the ground unlike 
anything I ever beheld, the sward being covered with 

1 Which, Hterally translated, means ' Httle breakfast' 
II H 



2 34 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

a thick coating of ice. Weak nature is sorely tempted to 
return to the warm, snug tent again, but, disHking to appear 
vacillating, and fearing also that on the next occasion 
I might not be able to depend on the presence of my 
bearers, I pursue my way, feeling really strong-minded 
for the first time in my whole life. 

The heights ascended, however, I am amply re- 
warded. The greater portion of the Nepaul Range is 
distinctly visible. Its numerous peaks stand out sheer 
against the cold grey sky, the only one amongst them to 
hide himself being Mount Everest, the configuration of 
whose summit, having seen it from Senshul peeping over 
the shoulder of the Singaleelah Range, I know too well 
not to recognise instantly. To describe the colouring of 
the rocky base of the snow-clad mountains, which forms a 
perpendicular precipice of many thousand feet below the 
line of congelation, is impossible in words ; I can only con- 
vey it to the mind of an artist, by saying it is cobalt, with 
a little rose-madder, and a great deal of Chinese white. 

On each side rise the nearer mountains of Nepaul, 
steep, rugged, barren ; and there is a wonderful opacity in 
the colouring of the whole — a chalkiness one would call 
it, were it a picture— not easily accounted for, but due, 
I imagine, to some particular state of the atmosphere, 
for there is not the slightest haze hanging over them, and 
the air is crisp and clear. Far more impossible still 
would it be to describe the immeasurable continuity of 
snow that surrounds me, embracing fully one-third of the 



horizon ; but it may be imagined perhaps, when I say that 
my eye is resting- on two hundred miles of eternally snow- 
capped mountains, stretching from west to east, whilst the 
sense of isolation is almost oppressive, for throughout all 
this vast region there is not a sign of human habitation. 

The sun has hardly thought of rising yet, so that each 
object, at this comparatively low elevation, still wears its 
dark and sombre garb of grey. Standing on feet from 
which all sensation has long ago departed — the chilblain 
developing rapidly under these fostering influences ! — I 
wait till my bearers have dragged along some dead 
branches of the rhododendron, and made a fire, which 
enables me to endure the cold till the sun is up, when 
beneath its genial rays the frost soon melts on this upland, 
where there is no shade. Here I remain several hours, 
endeavouring to make a sketch of Kinchinjunga and its 
adjacent peaks ; and at ten o'clock I have a solitary pic- 
nic, my breakfast being sent up to me. 

I was just putting the finishing touches to my sketch, 
when, looking over my shoulder, I saw travelling towards 
me, with extraordinary rapidity, across the plains a 
shadowy army of white clouds, which seemed to come out 
of the airy distance. These, ascending the heights, soon 
mingled with the miles of cloud now rising to meet them 
beneath the mighty snows, and in a few moments every- 
thing was enveloped in vapour ; and I beat a hasty re- 
treat. Confined the whole live-long day within the 
narrow limits of our tents — for this mist continued to shut 



236 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

us in, and everything else out — we strive, but I fear with 
very ill success, to kill time. 

Not only on this day are we fog-bound, but the two 
following ones also, till the atmosphere gets saturated 
with moisture, and Nature — that is to say, as much as we 
can see of it — wears a washed-out, limp, and bedraggled 
appearance. We lift the ' kernaughts ' (walls of the tent), 
and the cloud bursts in and almost blinds us. Everything 
one touches is clammy, and one feels oneself a sponge. 
If we have to stay here under these circumstances much 
longer, we shall see mosses, fungi, and lichens growing 
over our portmanteaus, and be able to pursue the study 
of cryptogainous plants before we are up in the morning. 

Enter Fanchyng bringing water, looking like a dis- 
hevelled Hebe, followed by F , who has been stand- 
ing outside smoking, each hair of his moustache and 
whiskers crowned by its own little globule of moisture, 
giving him the appearance of a hoary old lichen. I 
verily believe, if we do not go soon, we shall take root 
here, and all three of us be metamorphosed into gigantic 
specimens of moss and fungus, or some other species of 
moist vegetation. 

There is a great uproar in camp, too, consequent upon 
everybody running into everybody else, and upsetting 
everybody's goods and chattels, and knocking each other 
down accidentally. It is fearfully cold besides, and the 
coolies throw about their arms like windmills, whilst we 
ourselves keep close under canvas, and crouch together 



over the stove. Thank goodness, we are above the range 
of insect Hfe, so that we can, at any rate, sit in peace 
in ' mine inn ; ' and as we converse in a somewhat desultory 
manner, we feed the hungry stove with the small pieces 
of wood that have been prepared for it. It is wonderful 
what a fascination even this has for idle hands, and we 
almost savagely grudge each other the slight occupation. 
But we might be worse employed after all, for we all 
know what that proverbial philosopher and sagacious 
sage of our childhood. Dr. Watts, says about ' idle hands,' 
and who the questionable personage is who finds ' work ' 
for them. 

Having nothing else to do, I will here introduce 
another of our party of whom I have not yet spoken, but 
who is, nevertheless, a very important personage in his 
way. I allude to Tendook, a native gentleman, the agent 
of Tcheboo Lama, a man of considerable social status in 
his own country, in the Rajah's confidence, and much 
about the Court. 

Tendook had long been known to C in his offi- 
cial capacity, and on his proposing to accompany us, 
being himself also, as he said, anxious to visit the ' in- 
terior,' C fell in at once with the suggestion, know- 
ing he would have great influence over our people, the 
greater number of whom are natives of the country 
under his rule. He brings with him a retinue of 
fifteen men, who swell our numbers, so that altoge- 
ther, including the little ' sapper corps ' of twenty men 



238 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



I have often mentioned, we have now a camp of ninety 
souls save one, that one being Fanchyng, who, merely a 
woman, is denied that spiritual and immortal principle, 
which the lords of the Indian creation arrogate to them- 
selves as the privilege of man only. I am forgetting, 
however, that the greater number of our followers are not 
Mahomedans and Hindoos, who exclude women from 
entrance into their Elysian Fields, or accord them a very 
second-rate sort of Paradise at best, but are for the most 
part Buddhists — a fact of which I am only this moment 
reminded, in the erection of a little altar of loose stones 
covered with flags — and Buddhists, like Christians, with 
a benevolence and generosity far beyond our deserts, con- 
cede souls to the fair sex ! 

Tendook's tent, which is a very imposing one as far 
as outward appearance goes, being covered with stripes 
of blue and white cloth embroidered In Thibetan de- 
vices, is always pitched at some distance from ours, 
but whether from motives of respect, or dislike to too 
great a proximity to the ' Faringhi,' or Christian camp, 
we have not as yet been able to determine. 

Tendook is a good-looking man, rather tall for a 
Lepcha, his figure ' corpulent and comfortable,' and won- 
derfully clean for a mountaineer, a concession made only, 
I imagine, out of consideration for our national pre- 
judices. His dress usually consists of a long robe of 
maroon-coloured silk, which he sometimes exchanges for 
one of embroidered amber cloth. His head Is adorned 



TENDOOK. 



239 




with a small round velvet cap, beneath which dangles a 
very imposing pigtail, ingeniously lengthened by means 
of thick-spun silk, which is plaited 
with the hair, ending in a long 
tassel, till the whole reaches con- 
siderably below the waist, and, 
keeping time with each movement 
of his portly figure as he walks 
along, sways to and fro like the 
pendulum of a clock. Enough 
of Tendook for the present. 

We have also a true specimen 
of the ' Bengalee baboo ' in our 
train, a subordinate of C 's, belonging to a class per- 
haps the most objectionable of all the natives of this 
land, whose sleek, stolid face, and large liquid, but pas- 
sionless eye, and the compromise between the European 
dress and that of Orientals, which they generally adopt, 
constitute to my mind a very incongruous and disagreeable 
picture. 

Usually educated at schools in which every branch 
of education, including the classics and mathematics, 
considered necessary for English youth is taught, they 
become conversant in due time with the British authors, 
Milton and Shakespeare being those for whom they 
generally affect to have a preference. Gifted with very re- 
tentive memories, they store up expressions and sentences 
which they find in the writings of these their favourite 



240 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

authors, for the sole purpose of introducing them into 
ordinary conversation. They also have a way of blend- 
ing- Oriental and English idiom together, which is no less 
amusing in its results. 

An example of their letter-writing, however — of which 
achievement they are not a little proud — will perhaps give 
a better idea of their mental characteristics than anything 
I can say. The substance of their lucubrations is not un- 
frequently taken, piece by piece, from books, and strung 
together, with a misapplication of terms that is perfetly 
astounding, when one remembers that they have been 
probably educated for years In a school where English 
formed the basis of their education. 

The following is a letter I received from one of these 
baboos about a year ago : — 

Honoured and Reverend Madam, 

With the most confounded respect 1 come before you with 
the pen, to prostrate myself at your ladyship's footstool as a humble 
petitioner for your bountiful charities, and long-sufferingness. Your 
countenance is like the moon when she walks in brightness,^ where- 
fore I do not frognosticate defeat — for the ' quality of mercy is not 
strained ; it droppeth like the gentle dew from heaven' — and I commit 
myself with confidence to your ladyship's gracious recommendations. 
Dear Madam, I have heard that the Postmaster-Generals a friend of 

yours, and I implore the appointment of postmaster of — , lately 

vacated by Randeem Butterchuckee ; for the present menial post of clerk 
I have for some years been enjoying, has so much attenuated my social 
position, that the very friends of my breast refuse to know me, and 
my daughter's nuptials have been hindered thereby. Besides which, 

' I wonder he didn't say that my eyes were loadstars. 



THE BENGALEE BABOO. 241 

although, as saith the immortal bard, ' Sweet are the uses of adversity,' 
I have often not possessed suffieient filthy lucre to provide my 
orphans with the grubs necessary to sustain the life.' I do not 
hesitate, your ladyship, for ' truth hath a c^uiei breast,' to caricature 
the late functionary holding the appointment I hunger for, as a 
pusillanimous donkey ; but Jiunianum est errare, and I trust, if I am 
so happy to succeed him, that by enlarging my phylacteries and 
a punctuality to business and small profits — ■' for the golden mind 
stoops not to show of dross ' — I shall merit the malevolent benefaction 
not only of the nobility and 'tocracy, but of the general public. But 
as ' brevity is the soul of wit,' I will now withdraw, begging your reve- 
rend ladyship will lay this humble contrition before his excellency, 
the gentlemans at the top of the post-office. And as I am going to 
become Christan, please, ladyship, lend me fifty rupee only, and keep 
my being Christan snug {%tcxt\)\ and your petitioner will ever pray that 
the fatness of heaven may descend upon your head, and the waves of 
Britannia shall always rule your 

Devoted sei"vant and slave. 

Ram Ghose Muckerjee. 

They are wonderfully quick in picking up ' slang ' ex- 
pressions, which they use on all occasions, pathetic or 
otherwise. A baboo in the employment of the Public 
Works Department came to me one day with rueful 
countenance and tear-dimmed eye — for they are a very 
filial people, in spite of everything — to announce the fact 
that the long-dreaded hour had arrived, and that on that 
very morning, just at half-past five o'clock, the much- 
respected Bzbi, his maternal grandmother, had ' hwned 

^ Not referring, as I imagine, to a Diet of Worms, but to that which, in 
the polite language of modern slang, is sometimes adopted for the old and 
vulgar term _/<?(?«'. 

I I 



242 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

up her toes to the daisies ! ' They are also much addicted 
to introducing Latin into their letters and conversation, 
and whilst quoting their favourite Shakespeare, not 
unfrequently utterly pervert his meaning. Thus a sub- 
ordinate of F 's, writing on one occasion to condole 

with him on my being obliged to return to England in 
consequence of ill-health, began in this wise : — 

' All the world's a stage ' (by which I suppose he 
meant perpetually moving on, like a stage coach). 
' Nothing, Sir, can really be said to be in a state of quo ' 
{in statu quo) ; and finished up with the very consoling 
and novel information that ' All flesh is grash, and has- 
tening to the tombs.' 

The baboo we have with us is no exception to his class. 
If you remark on the beauty of the scenery around, he 
will quote from some poet, and tell you that ' To look on 
noble things makes noble,' or something of that kind. On 
the march he may be seen wending his way along perfectly 
alone, taking no notice either of things animate or things 
inanimate. A smile never by any chance lights up his fea- 
tures ; densest fog and merriest sunshine affect him alike, 
and he looks so utterly wretched and miserable, with 
such a settled and hopeless melancholy written in every 

line of his face, that F declares it makes him feel 

inclined to cut his own throat even to look at him. 

We all long for the fog to clear and enable us to 
journey on again; our idle folk meanwhile sit gam- 
bling round their fires, or stand about in knots talk- 



ARRIVAL OF A CHOWKEYDAR FROM HOME. 243 

ing. It is amusing to watch Fanchyng amongst a group 
of Bhootias and Lepchas, or more frequently with the 
kitmutgars, and hsten now to her merry ringing laugh, 
now to her shrill angry tones as something is said which 
annoys her. Fanchyng was not beautiful, as I have said, 
but she was a bright and bonny lass, possessing, through 
the combined influence of art and keen mountain breezes, 
the rosiest of cheeks, and the kitmutgars and plainsmen 
liked well enough to talk to her ; but woe to him who 
spoke in a too familiar tone, or touched her with but the 
tip of his finger. As a Bhootia, she had twice their muscle 
and physique, and I would not have answered for the 
consequences. 

Small things are an event to us whilst fog-bound here, 
and a chowkeydar arriving from Darjeeling this morning 
with bread and other small things produced quite a sen- 
sation. It is true that the bread is more than a week 
old ; but having been condemned to eat hard sea biscuit 
for three days, we regard it as an immense luxury. 

It was here that C expected to be met by the 

three agents from the Court of Nepaul ; but as they make 
no sign, he sent a messenger yesterday with a letter, 
reminding them of the object of his visit, and acquaint- 
ing them with the fact of his actual arrival. Nothing 
came of it, however, and he was informed long after that 
they had insolently said they desired no communication 
with the English Government either personally or by letter. 
So much for our friendly relations with Nepaul ! 



244 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

WE ENCAMP IN A PINE FOREST. 

The fog having cleared the third morning after our arrival 
at Mount Tongloo, we struck tents and started on our way. 
Since that time a week has passed, and we have been 
marching regularly from twelve to fifteen miles each day. 
However sharp the frosts may be at night, the sun, when 
he deigns to shine, makes the day pleasantly warm. 
Journeying on in cheery companionship, we are 'merrier 
than marriage bells,' hardly heeding the flow of time, 
like children, conscious only of the happy present, with 
neither past to regret, nor future to dread ; life's sorrows 
cominof to us hushed, or not at all. 

There is unquestionably a charm quite unique in tra- 
velline in these mountains, and a freedom inconceivable. 
There is no registering of one's effects, and agonising 
dread of mislaying the recu de baggage, as in travelling on 
the Continent. There are no Custom-house officials to 
read in your face the undeniable fact that, deep-hidden in a 
mysterious, far-concealed pocket, there lie some dozen 
pairs of light kid gloves, or packets of cigars, which in a 
weak moment you have undertaken to pass for your hus- 



THE CHARM OF MOUNTAIN TRAVELLING. i^s 

band. We are haunted by no dread, as in England, every 
time the train draws up to a station, that at this very 
identical moment somebody may be standing at the door 
of the luggage-van, and coolly laying claim to your parti- 
cular belongings. 

No solemn garden parties or funereal dinners, no 
weary conventionalities of society, follow us here. We 
are children of nature. Hungry and we eat, weary and we 
lay us down and sleep. All kinds of pleasant incidents 
occur on the way, and the fatigue and rough bits of road, 

which, as F expresses it, are ' bone- wrenching ' to 

climb, the frequent small vexations, the thousand-and-one 
things that will not run smoothly, are all alike forgiven and 
forgotten in this pure and exhilarating air ; and in the lonely 
heart of nature, one's mind, somehow, becomes more open 
to tender and innocent enjoyment. The people of our 
camp, too, are in such an uncontrollable state of hilarity, 
that it is useless trying to curb them ; and Nautch-wallah, 
going on in advance of us, indulges, every now and then, 
in a sort of Highland fling. 

I am getting used to the battering and shaking which 
I hourly experience in my dandy, and my muscles are 
getting used to the straining. We are all becoming accus- 
tomed to our canvas homes : we do not so persistently 
run against the tent-poles, or risk decapitating ourselves 
every time we go in or out ; we are learning to double 
up, and be compressible ; we no longer knock our shins 
aofainst leofs of tables and other tent furniture. The 



246 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

g-entlemen at last know how to dispose of their feet and 
legs ; and we are taking so marvellously to our Arab life, 
notwithstanding everything, that we begin to believe we 
must be direct descendants of Ishmael. 

We are also getting used to the candles, as they hang 
from our tent-poles, guttering down all night upon our 
hats, or any other articles of attire that may happen to be 
beneath ; but I cannot say that I am as yet quite used to 
having all about my clothes black currant jelly, a pot- of 

which C benevolently gave me for a sore throat. 

This pot first tumbled into my open portmanteau, without 
my knowledge or consent, and then, in the hurry of strik- 
ing tents this morning, got packed up in it, and, having 
been tossed about violently all day on its way hither, has 
saturated everything with its sticky sweetness. Neither 
diO I as a rule use by way of dentifrice the arsenical 

powder with which F embalms his ornithological 

specimens, and which Fanchyng presented to me one 
morning, instead of a bottle of fragrant Odonto. 

F is the only one of our trio who takes any rest. 

C , not contented with his daily march, often sets 

off, on arrival at camp, for another walk, or, surrounded 
by despatch-boxes, sits writing for hours, having brought 
some of his office work with him. For myself, I sketch 
madly everything I see. Living day by day, and 
hour by hour, with the Great Mother, one acquires an 
affinity with her, and gets to find out her secrets. How 
one realises gi^ey in everything, grey not only in retiring 



NATURE, A SCHOOL OF ART. 247 

portions, and in shade, but grey siinlight even, grey 
predominating everywhere ; and I often recall to mind the 
works of that simple and truthful lover of nature, David 
Cox, with his grey daylight, and warm buff shadows. 
How one comprehends at last what artists mysteriously 
call tlie 'regular irregular,' and ' the lost and the found,' 
which perhaps mark the difference between the works of 
artists and amateurs, more than aught else. Becoming 
a pupil in this great school of Nature, one finds that her 
palette is furnished with very little positive colour, and 
that she uses it in the half-tones only ; and one arrives at 
length at the appalling and humiliating conclusion, that her 
trees are not a combination of verdigris and boiled spinach, 
as one would imagine from the study of the works of some 
of the pre-Raphaelites, and that, therefore, many of one's 
own previous art efforts must be a gigantic failure ! 

What glorious views we passed to-day, what deep val- 
leys and blue mountains ! In one place, through a rent 
in the rock, Kinchinjunga was seen standing alone in all 
the glory of its glittering sheen, beneath which were 
rugged hills in every exquisite shade of rose, and violet, 
and purple. Scattered here and there upon them were 
tall and ragged pines, permitted by the elements, one 
would imagine, to have anything but a peaceful life of 
it, so eccentric was their growth, so black and seared, 
and, above all, so singularly bare of foliage. 

Following a sheep track a great part of the way, 
we reached a rudely constructed hut, sheltered beneath 



248 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

rhododendron trees, which we conjectured must belong 
to a Nepaulese shepherd, grazing his flocks in more fer- 
tile pastures below ; for, at this time of the year, the 
herbage at these elevations is scanty and dry. A large 
dog guarding the hut flew out at us, and barked vio- 
lently, indignantly refusing to be propitiated by a bone 
which one of the baggage coolies threw to him. Nor did 
he seem inclined to let us alone, until he had followed us 
to a safe distance, when, with a parting growl, he permitted 
us to pursue our journey unmolested. 

Our march to-day was an unusually exhausting one. 
The higher we ascend the more difficult and uneven be- 
comes our path, which sometimes takes us close to 
fearful gulfs, into which one false step on the part of my 
dandy-wallahs must inevitably precipitate me. At such 
times and places my faithful bearers, in their simple 
child-like way, bade me ' have no fear ; ' and when the 
path led over very dangerous places, Hatti, proud of 
his great strength, would insist on being one to carry 
me. Tendook and I, too, have become already great 
allies, and he usually accompanies me, directing their 
steps, walking by my side, in stately and dignified 
silence, ready to render unobtrusive help when neces- 
sary ; whilst Nautch-wallah, when not on duty, beguiles 
the way, as usual, by dancing more deliriously than 
any Satyr, and footing it in a manner that would have 
astonished even Pan himself; but Hatti walks by my side, 
when similarly disengaged, as if he were my champion. 



MV COACH AND FOUR. 



249 



I have often spoken of the amiable bearing of the 
Lepchas not only towards Europeans, but towards each 
other. The Bhootias, however, and Nepaulese, some of 
whom are amongst C 's and Tendook's retinue, fre- 
quently engage in small feuds, and form, in truth, two 
factions, with whom it is sometimes war almost to the 
knife. The Bhootias, as the stronger party, generally 




have it all their own way, claiming pre-eminence as 
their right, whilst the peaceful Lepchas, who are not 
prone to wax valiant in fight, yield to them naturally, 
as they would do to everybody. Not so the Nepaul- 
ese, who do so with but ill grace. There is honour 
amongst thieves, we are told, and there are rules of 
precedence even amongst these semi-barbarians. On 
arrival at camping-ground this evening, we were favoured 
with an instance of it. Some of the baggage coolies, who 
had done their share of work, in hauling wood, fetching 

K K 



250 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

water, clearing ground, &c., having established them- 
selves in groups in their respective quarters, were already 
cooking their evening meal; whilst Hatti and Nautch- 
wallah, who head the Bhootia faction, were still occupied 
in the pitching of our tents. On retiring to their 
own camping ground, after finishing their work, they 
found that the Nepaulese had taken advantage of their 
absence by choosing the most comfortable and convenient 
places for their own bivouac. Hereupon a war arose, and 
they fell upon each other, like rooks fighting for a bough, 
some of the Bhootias hurling the cooking pans of the 
Nepaulese and their contents into the very air. Attracted 

by the noise, F went to see what it was all about, 

and arriving just as the battle was won, found Hatti re- 
moving the belongings of the vanquished Nepaulese 
from the disputed ground ; whilst Nautch-wallah, some- 
what exhausted by his exertions, was calmly sitting on 
the recumbent form of Tatters, one of the offending 
party. At which proceeding F remonstrated, insist- 
ing on Nautch-wallah's finding some other seat. 

' Never mind him. Sahib,' replied Nautch-wallah ; 
' him all right ! ' as the poor crushed fellow rose to his 
feet, and tried to shake himself into shape again. ' Him 
pugla (foolish) ; 1 give rice, and make all right again.' 

I have frequently observed, on reaching camp, that 
the gentle Lepchas squat down upon the ground, and 
wait patiently till the feudal parties have taken up their 
several positions, and then quietly put up with whatever 



places may be left, the consequence being that they are 
but too often left out in the cold. 

The spots considered most advantageous for bivouack- 
ing are those beneath the shelter of thick bushes, or 
against large boulders or overhanging rocks, which form 
a background. Stakes of about four or five feet long are 
then driven into the ground and covered with a striped 
dhurrie, or scarf, which they wear over their shoulders on 
the march ; those who do not possess articles of the kind, 
forming little enclosures of boughs. 

We were just leaving our own to proceed to the 
dining tent, when the oppressed Tatters presented him- 
self before us, holding up the fragments of the earthen 
pot in which his rice had been cooking, and which 
Hatti had broken, the tears coursing down his smoke- 
begrimed face, creating little meanderings, like the Delta 
of the Nile. It was evidently a great loss to him, and 

one he could not make good. But F summoned 

Catoo, the deficiency was soon supplied, and the poor 
fellow retired to his lair, looking as happy as a child. 

These hill tribes certainly suffer from chronic hydro- 
phobia, and except when exposed to an involuntary 
shower-bath from a heavy down-pour of rain, are seldom 
acquainted with the cleansing element. What a blessing 
it is that Nature, meeting the exigencies of the case, 
causes it to rain so heavily in these mountain regions ! 

We are now encamped in a pine forest, and the air is 
filled with resinous odours, our footsteps falling noise- 



252 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



lessly over a soft carpet spread by the ' autumnal shed- 
dings of countless years.' As evening wears on, it is 
beautiful to watch the camp-fires gleaming through the 
tall straight stems, as the wind, like giant bellows, blows 
the flames about fitfully, and makes music amongst their 
branches. 

The general silence already indicates that our tired 
people have eaten their meal and are at rest; and the 
sound of a gently gurgling ' hubble-bubble,' filled with a 




''4/i^,^- 



compound of tobacco, spices, sugar, and opium, proceed- 
ing from within the cooking tent, and smoked by some 
contemplative Moslem, shows that he too has given him- 
self up, body and soul, to the calm enjoyment of the hour ; 
whilst we ourselves, reclining by the waning camp-fire, 
too lazy to talk, watch the wood split and fall in and then 
burn up again with a sudden crackle and splutter. 



THE CHERISHED HUBBLE-BUBBLE. 253 

It is amusing to see the plainsmen — many of whom 
we have in our camp — smoke their evening ' hookah.' 
Squatting down upon their heels, they remain jDerfectly 
silent, too thoroughly absorbed in that delightful exer- 
cise to be conversational, or to take notice of anything 
that is going on around them. No sooner, however, 
have they exhausted its contents than, wrapping them- 
selves tightly in their chuddahs, they are quite ready 
to talk to a brother about the probable state of the rice 
crops, or of the last arrival of pilgrims from Mecca. 

More singular and amusing still is it to see them on 
a showery day, in the plains where their umbrellas are 
made of bamboo, and do not shut, and where they may 
be seen squatting, with these useful articles — which are 




fitted with spikes at the bottom of the handles for the 
purpose — stuck into the ground over or near them. At 
such times they look from a little distance precisely like 
frogs sitting beneath a species of fungus, familiarly known 
as ' toad-stools.' 

We are now at an elevation of eleven thousand feet, 
and, the cold growing intense as evening wears on, I 



254 



THE INDIAN AIFS. 



retire within my tent, whilst F , smoking, keeps vigil 

with the moon. Reclining within the open doorway, I 
look out upon an exquisite framed picture of pine forest, 
the tall straight trunks casting long elf-like shadows, 
through which is seen one noble glittering spire of snow, 
in solitary grandeur ; and I recall the events of the day, 
and think with a shudder of the precipices we have 




passed, and the unknown dangers we have escaped, and 
how near we may have been to that mysterious life 
beyond, which awaits us all sooner or later, when the 
slender thread which binds us here will be loosed to let 
us free ; a time that almost comes to us in the vicissitude 
of each day's travel, and would surely do so but for some 
restraining hand to hold us up. 



'SERMONS IN stones: 



255 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



PINES. 



' Ye hills ! ye seem the great earth's aspirations, 
The heavings of her full heart toward the skies. 



To-day being Sunday, we anchor here to give our tired 
men a day's rest. A short service in the dining-tent — 

F reading the prayers, and C the lessons 

and psalms for the day — carries us away in thought from 
these scenes to those of home. It is a sweet calm 
day, the heavens above so blue and all around so fair. 
Plenty of sermons find we in this grand volume of 
Nature. 

A little below our encampment, between wooded 
heights, we again catch sight of an angle of the plains, 
simmering in the noon-day sun, which cooks them slowly 
and tenderly at this season of the year, but which two 
or three months hence will grill them like a monster 
salamander, rob them of the exquisite emerald green 
they now wear, and ' do them brown ' in no time, till they 
become almost as arid and barren as the desert of 



256 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

Sahara. When striking straight down, it will pierce the 
brain Hke a red-hot poker, and those who Hve there will 
breathe flames, for the wind blowing in parching tor- 
nadoes, as from the mouth of an oven, will puff away 
its fiery blasts from ' morn till stewy eve.' A hot, 
tremulous haze, like poisoned vapour, will exhale from 
the earth ; a broad zone of * prickly heat ' will encircle 
the waists of its dwellers like a metallic brush, thickly 
set with finest needle-points ; and mosquitoes will make 
their life a burden. 

Later in the afternoon we walk across to an adjacent 
mountain, whence we hope to gain a view of a military 
fort belonging to the Goorkhas, the dominant race in 
Nepaul. Far, far down in green hollows, here and 
there lie little sleepy huts, folded snugly in the bosom 
of the mountains, and Hickcd in, as it were, with neat 
enclosures of sugar-cane, which surround them like a 
wall. 

Reaching camp just as the sun is setting, we pass 
Tendook's tent, where he and Narboo, the interpreter, 
are sitting within the doorway, like Abraham and Isaac, 
or some other of the Patriarchs one reads of in the Bible ; 

and F and C now leave me, to prolong their walk 

in another direction, and I, sitting over the camp-fire, 
feel not unhappy alone. 

There is a strange hush in our usually busy hive, a 
kind of Sabbath stillness ; and it is on evenings like the 
present, when the azure is giving place to mellow saffron 



MUSINGS. 



257 




'^m^'W^z^j' 






lights, as the sun sinks deeper below the horizon, that 
the forecast steals through the mind, that we too must one 
day sink to rest, and 
that the chastened 
and mellow light of 
one's own life's 
evening will be but 
an earnest and har- 
binger of the glory 
that is to follow 
on the morrow. 
When later still all 
colour fades, and these transcendent and eternal hills, 
with their look of indomitable energy and irresistible 
force, stand out stately and solemn in the subdued light, 
I love to muse upon them best. 

Two years ago I was standing beneath the all but 
immortal pyramids of Gizeh ; and how my spirit stirred 
within me, as my eye rested upon that, which stretching 
down a long vista of chequered vicissitude, carried me 
back in thought to remote antiquity, and connected the 
dead past with the living present. Yet, great as are 
those mighty monuments, they had a genesis. Four 
thousand years ago they were raised block by block, and 
are but the handiwork of man, himself the handiwork of 
God ; but these lordly and eternal snows, on which no 
human foot has ever trodden,^ were laid flake by flake 



^ No one has hitherto been able to ascend beyond 22,ck)0 feet. 

L L 



258 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

by the Almighty architect. Before history was, they 
were ; and sitting here wrapped in their shadow, and en- 
compassed by their grand and solemn silence, I feel in the 
living presence of the Infinite. 

The following morning, rising at peep of day, we grope 
our way outside. The eastern sky is just tinged with the 
first faint glow of morning ; all else is dim and indistinct. 
At these altitudes I have observed a kind of warm 
translucent light preceding sunrise, a slight forecast or 
herald of the approach of day. Walking some little 
distance over the crisp white sward, and threading our 
way between the pine-trees, we reach the brow of the 
hill, and watch this light die out, when all becomes pale 
and cold. Then suddenly a brilliant streak bursts over 
the horizon, the sun rapidly ascends, and in a few minutes 
the sky is bathed in a flood of rose and purple, and, like 
an illuminated manuscript, bears glorious witness to the 
resurrection, in the awakening day. Turning westwards, 
the snowy peaks, covered with a pink mist, look vague 
and dreamy still ; whilst the lower mountains in the 
middle distance are greenish black, their summits brist- 
ling with a chevaux-de-frise of leafless pines, standing out 
boldly against the soft grey of the eastern peaks, which 
seem literally melting into ether. 

But although the sun had indeed risen to us, in the 
valleys darkness reigned — a darkness like that of an 
eclipse — with the exception of one little spot, where that 
impartial benefactor that shines upon the ' evil and the 



I/OJF ]VE TOAST OUR BREAD. 



259 



good,' the rich and poor ahkc, glinting sideways through 
a mountain cleft, was lighting up a lonely hut, which 
looked like a mere bee-hive from this distance, and shed- 
ding a shower of golden warmth over the little patches of 
cultivation surrounding it, which had been watered by 
the gentle dews of night ; and methought how much this 
slight suggestion of habitation increased the desolation of 
all around. 




Returning to our tent, we steal silently upon the 
cook, who, to economise time probabl)-, is performing the 
double operation of smoking his 'hubble-bubble,' and 
preparing cJiota hazree ; and we become eye-witnesses of 
the cool manner in which the matutinal toast is made. 
This is how it was accomplished ; and I need scarcely say 



26o THE INDIAN AIPS. 

that we gratefully and uncomplainingly return to our 
biscuit for the future. 

On this day's march we make a further ascent of a 
thousand feet, and the pine-trees begin not only to be less 
abundant, but to bear unmistakable marks of the rough 
blasts to which they are exposed at some seasons of the 
year. Indeed, at this elevation they are so eccentrically 
formed, so knock-kneed and hump-backed, that one can- 
not help fancying that mother Nature must have nursed 
them badly in their infancy, for their growth seems to 
have been a series of spasmodic and convulsive efforts, 
rather than the ' gentle process of natural development.' 
Not only are their limbs twisted and gnarled, but their 
joints are knobby, like those of rheumatic old men ; and 
they somehow wear a doomed and scared look, but, 
nevertheless, one that is quite in keeping with their sur- 
roundings. 

All are covered with moss and lichen, — moss of that 
hardy kind which grows in thick velvety bosses, vary- 
ing in hue from yellow to the deepest, richest brown, 
whilst in other places it is vivid green. In the dim 
labyrinth of these pine- woods no sound greets us, for 
it is tuneless of the songs of birds, there being no 
fowls of the air to make their nests and ' sing among the 
branches.' Nothing is heard but the wailing of the wind, 
which moans with an unutterable sadness. Wending 
our way steadily onwards through these grand and 
ancient forests, we come upon exquisite formations of 



HOAR V PINES. 26 1 



cold grey rock, which time has painted with lichen stains, 
and the weather pitted with deep lines and hollows, just 
as the faces of the old get marred and wrinkled. 

Throughout the forest there is an undergrowth of 
the scarlet berbery, a kind similar to that which grows 
in England, but much smaller, and with leaves so red 
that, by contrast with the sombre colouring of all around, 
they seem to burn like live coals ; but the bracken-fronds 
at this elevation look frost-seared and melancholy. With 
their amber stems well-nigh severed by the wintry blasts, 
they hang their heads, and nestle together in sorry, 
comfortless companionship, as if to keep each other 
warm, making one shiver even to look at them, as 
we brush our way along. 

Now and then, through the pine stems, bright 
glimpses of the snows are seen, wonderfully lustrous in 
their fresh powdering of crystal. How they flash and 
quiver ! each shining prominency casting its deep blue 
shadow in cleft and fissure. 

Here and there we meet with patriarchal pines, and 
the higher we ascend the more frequently we do so. 
These, though destitute of foliage, are covered with a 
garment of lichen, in long, long, hoary tufts of greenish 
grey, for all the world like old men's beards, which only 
add to their old and weird appearance, as they struggle 
for dear life a little longer. Lonely and sad and very 
weary, they seem but to be waiting their turn to be laid 
low, their skeleton arms upraised in mute appeal to 



2 62 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

heaven, as if uttering ' how long ; ' whilst others seem to 
have been arrested in the very act by death, and to have 
stiffened then and there. Oh ! how I love these hag- 
gard, lonely pines. 

To my mind there is something inexpressibly touch- 
ing in the sight of these once noble trees, upon which 
* Ichabod' is now written. They look so terribly human 
that one cannot help feeling a kind of pity for them. I 
have used the word ' noble,' not so much to express their 
stature, as — still regarding them as almost sentient things 
— to describe their exalted nature, typifying as they do 
such stern endurance, never bending to the blast, but only 
lifting their branches like giant arms in silent protest, 
and, in their resistance, forming a striking contrast to 
the rhododendrons, their companions in distress, which, 
succumbing to the force of wind and weather, and 
yielding to the pressure, rest their strong sturdy trunks 
and branches horizontally on the very ground, being at 
this altitude most singular-looking trees. 

Although I observed rhododendrons in every stage 
of existence as we came along, from the tiny nursling, 
with its four leaflets, just emerging from the soil, to the 
vigorous and lusty shrub, I have not seen a young pine, 
and I cannot help wondering with painful interest, how 
the dying and the dead are replaced. There was no 
absence of cones, for we noticed them lying in all direc- 
tions in the pine forest below, but the seeds do not appear 
to germinate. Is there a cycle in the growth of trees 'i 



WILL THESE FORESTS BECOME EXTINCT? 263 

Passing many days amongst these majestic pines, 
one feels sad to think they are the last of their genera- 
tion, and that their race must soon become extinct. One 
would be almost inclined to imagine, from the total ab- 
sence of successors — and their keen resemblance to 
humanity fosters the illusion — that the brave weather- 
beaten old fellows, having themselves withstood so many 
centuries of wind and frost, had grown tired of resist- 
ance, and, despairing of things becoming more comfortable 
and jolly in years to come, had benevolently arrived at 
the determination not to perpetuate their species. 

On reaching camp I mentioned this fact to C , 

who had been in advance of us all day, and he told 
me that he too had made the same observation as he 
came along, and had decided to communicate it to the 
* Forest Department ' immediately on his return, for 
without the timely intervention of man these grand 
primeval forests will one day be extinct. 



2 64 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

' VOYAGES IN THE AIR.' 

It is surprising how soon one falls into that praiseworthy- 
habit, commended by our forefathers, of rising early, 
when one is living an out-of-doors life. I now find it 
as difficult to remain within my tent after the first streak 
of dawn has appeared, as it would be at home to get up 
before the sun is high in the heavens. Quitting the tent 
at the usual hour, and observing signs of life in the 
blackened embers of a deserted camp-fire, I shout for 
Catoo to rekindle it. There is scarcely sufficient light yet 
to enable him to perform even this slight process ; but a 
cup of tea is soon the result, and the camp, thus aroused, 
is all astir. Summoning my bearers, I start on the march 
before the sun has done much more than tip the pine- 
tops with his gilding. 

In vain I urged F to accompany me. He is 

not so enthusiastic an artist as I am, and in these soli-" 
tary excursions — for I generally precede the rest — I 
have fortunately no sense of loneliness. I have, besides, 
plenty of attendants with me, being accompanied not only 
by Fanchyng and my dandy-bearers, but by two of 



C 's chuprassees also, and a chowkeydar by way of 

body-guard ! Tendook also invariably offers his services 
as an especial guard, so that I am well protected, were 
protection necessary. I have learnt by experience that 
the only time to be certain of absence of cloud is before 
noon, and we are passing through a country not one 
of whose beauties would I lose. I hope, moreover, to 
make a sketch to-day, and that is another inducement 
to struggle on through present discomfort. But what 
an effort it was to leave the warm snug tent, after 
having re-entered it, and go on my way with frozen 
hands and fingers ! 

I creep along below the crest of an eastern mountain, 
which effectually shuts out the sun. Nature wears an 
unutterably cold aspect, and although the ground is 
speckled everywhere with the brambles of the scarlet ber- 
berry and the Pyrus Aineincana, gemmed with its red 
berries, all is alike colourless from hoar frost. But as the 
sun rises higher, it peeps over the ridge of the mountain, 
and Hatti exclaims in Hindustanee— with a pathos very 
touching, when I look around me, and observe the scanty 
covering of some of the poorest of my attendants — ' Oh, 
mem sahib ! here comes the poor man's clothing!' and 
rapidly ascending, it soon sheds warmth and colour upon 
everything, and all is joy and gladness. The pine-twigs, 
bending under their weight of dissolving icicles, rain upon 
us as we pass, and the dew-drops, sparkling in the 
lichen cups, melt beneath its rays. How well I recollect, 

M M 



2 66 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

when I was a small child and believed heart and soul in 
fairies, thinking that these tiny cups were filled each night 
for them to drink from ! 

Having descended considerably the last hour, we come 
upon pines that do not bear such marks of violence^ 
These are not only covered with tufts of pendulous lichen, 
but with hanging moss of richest green, draping each 
branch fully half a yard in length, resembling chenille that 
has been first knitted, and then unravelled. It is very 
curious to observe the wonderful variety of these para- 
sites, which differ so completely at each altitude. 

On the march, one of my bearers, a dapper little 
Lepcha named Joogoo, met with a number of roots of the 
lily-of-the-valley, which he dug up for me, and which I 
intend taking home, to propagate if possible as a souvenir. 
He also gathered from the trees for his own refection and 
delectation a species of moist fungus, which is not only 
wholesome but they tell me exceedingly good to eat. This 
little man knows the name, not only of every mountain, 
but of each herb by the wayside also, and sometimes gives 
me quite a little history of them as I go along, de- 
scribing their qualities and peculiarities. It is unfortunate 
that, coming at this season of the year, we should miss so 
many of the Alpine flowers, as well as fruit, upon which 
the Lepchas can almost wholly subsist. 

Halting soon, I unfold my easel and make a sketch 

of Junnoo; and in three hours' time F and the 

' burra sahib,' as they all call C , come scrambling 



down the mountain side, followed by the * tiffin coolie.' 
We make a point of keeping this individual closely in our 
wake, panic seizing us the very instant we lose sight of 
him ; for hungry as we always are in this keen and 
bracing mountain air, his presence acts as a kind of 
counter-irritant, and we are able to survive its pangs all 
the longer, from the knowledge that they may be as- 
suaged at any moment. Our luncheons are ' movable 
feasts,' not only as to place, but time. Noon, however, 
is the hour at which we endeavour to halt for refection, 
always supposing that we are fortunate enough to find a 
stream of water near us. The fire is soon lighted, and the 
frying-pan — the favourite cooking utensil for the march 
— spluttering away with its savoury contents. The repast, 

provided by C ■ in the plenitude of his hospitality, 

generally consists of fried ham, moorghee, or pheasant 
(the latter almost daily shot on the road), varied by 
hermetically-sealed provisions, tea or chocolate completing 
the lueiLU. Whilst we partake of our rustic meal, the 
people of our camp come straggling up ; now pausing to 
rest, or to gather herbs to flavour their simple food at 
the end of the day's march, now toiling on again — but 
always merry. 

Gathering up the fragments and pursuing our journey, 
we meet three very Chinese-looking men leading a flock 
of little fluffy sheep, evidently provided by Nature with 
coats to suit the exigencies of the climate. All are 
muzzled to prevent their grazing by the way, and getting 



268 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

poisoned by the aconite plant that is growing everywhere 
amongst the herbage. The ponies, too, those tiseless 
animals — for the gentlemen were long ago obliged to 
relinquish them in these pathless steeps, and take per- 
manently to their legs and alpenstocks — were similarly 
muzzled this morning before starting, the banks being 
full of it. The aconite is said to be of so deadly a nature 
that, if the naked feet of the natives only press its suc- 
culent leaves, they frequently swell to such an extent 
as to prevent them from walking. Tendook also informs 
me that the natives who collect its roots for sale have 
sometimes been known to die on their way back to Dar- 
jeeling, their flesh coming in contact with it through the 
open baskets in which it is conveyed ; and I observe 
that the baggage coolies, who do not wear mocassins, pick 
their way carefully, so as to avoid treading on it. 

We pass now through a narrow gorge, and our pro- 
gress is rendered exceedingly difficult by the number of 
pine-trees which lie across it, precipitated from the 
heights. As we leave these behind, our pathway leads 
us up the almost dry bed of a watercourse. It is said 
that flies walk up glass, by means of a vacuum they create 

in the foot, and 1 should think that F and C must 

wish devoutly that Nature had provided them likewise 
with similar arrangements ; for the bed of a watercourse 
is not such pleasant scrambling as could be desired, either 
for ourselves or ponies, the latter particularly, which 
appear to find their four legs too many for them, not to 



say altogether an encumbrance, for they cannot climb 
over stones nearly as well as we bipeds do. It is 
a perfect marvel how the coolies manage to climb these 
places with their heavy loads without falling — a thing 
they do not always succeed in accomplishing, for a heavy 
thud, and a bump, followed by a chorus of laughter 
from those above and below, all announce the fact that 
some poor unhappy wight, having lost his balance, is 
sliding down the steep incline. The more prudent and 
wary, however, do not trust themselves to its slippery 
channel, but scramble over the boulders. It is a greater 
marvel still how the dandy-wallahs manage to carry me ; 
and perhaps the greatest of all is, how I contrive to keep 
in my dandy. Occasionally I am knocked against a sharp 
piece of rock, and nearly turned over, then by another 
kncck in a different direction am as quickly knocked in 
again ; but I seldom utter any word of complaint beyond 
Khabarda^'- ! (Take care !), and my poor men are cheerful 
and patient under all difficulties. Groans and grunts do 
escape them sometimes, but even these are relieved by 
scraps of song, with which, bidding defiance to every 
law of harmony, they endeavour to beguile the tedium 
of the way. These wild banshee strains seem quite in 
keeping with the scenery through which we are travellino-. 
Reaching the summit of the Singaleelah range, at an 
elevation of 1 2,000 feet, we pass frozen streamlets, and 
get beyond the region not only of pines, but of ferns also, 
even of the more hardy species, and are fast losing sight 



2 70 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



of our little friend the immortelle. This little snow- 
white flower, familiar to all Alpine travellers, grows 
on some of the loftiest mountains of the Tyrol, and is 
called by the guides, Edelweiss (Noble white). It 
grows, there as here, beyond the limits of vegetation, 
with the exception of that of small herbaceous plants. 
Having travelled in its presence so long a time, we quite 
miss its soft white tufts ; but the deadly and unwholesome 
aconite takes its place, and grows more abundantly at 
each step as we ascend. 

The sky is intensely blue, and the air so intoxicating 
in its freshness, that the very tea we had for breakfast 
on the way seems to have got into our heads, and so 
exhilarating is the atmosphere that one's very heart seems 
to throb as with new life. It is sweet to breathe and 
live — the mere fact of existence in itself being a delight ; 

and on F remarking, sotto voce, that Nautch-wallah 

appears to be unnecessarily attentive to Fanchyng — insist- 
ing on carrying her bundle for her, and making himself 
agreeable in other small ways — I ask him how it is pos- 
sible to help falling head over heels in love with every- 
thing and everybody, even with oneself, _/^?//^ de niieux. I 
verily believe that a solo from a jackal, in such moments 
of extreme gladness, would sound ' plaintive, soothing, 
and not unmusical.' 

From this ridge we seem literally to look down upon 
the clouds, and to be making ' voyages in the air.' Thick 
layers of vapour, many miles in extent, float immediately 



CLOUDS. 271 

below us, immersing the valleys in sombre shade, whilst 
we above them are in brilliant sunshine. It is beautiful to 
watch this wreathing vapour curve, and heave, and break 
up into different forms, changing each moment as it 
travels onwards, huge billows rolling over and over, 
uplifted as though by the agency of some mighty hand. 
Sometimes we look down as upon snow-capped moun- 
tains, sometimes into cavernous recesses, at others upon 
calm lakes embosomed in hills, but far more frequently 
upon a troubled sea. . Then all dissolves, and one seems 
to be gazing upon some world of enchantment, as the 
broken heaps of cloud-rift roll onwards out of sight. 



272 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

A MOONLIGHT ADVENTURE. 

Early evening found us encamping on the summit of 
another mountain of this range ; and the scenery, which 
grows more grand and savage in its character the higher 
we ascend, is finer than that which we have seen from 
any of our previous encampments. 

As we had made a quicker march than usual, notwith- 
standing our cHmb, it was still broad day when we arrived 
at the place chosen for us by our corps of sappers, and 
the sun still shone above the mountain peaks. But the 
baggage-coolies had not kept up so well with us ; and 
we had, consequently, to wait till the exciting process of 
tent-pitching was accomplished. Our swarthy chef de 
ctdsine, however, had arrived, and was already crouching 
over his stew-pans, peering anxiously into them occasion- 
ally, like a wizard engaged in the preparation of some 
unholy philter or mystic spell. Meanwhile, after a short 

rest, F and I start for a walk along the ridge of the 

plateau on which our camp is situated. Taking coolies 
with us, to cut down any bushes which might be found to 
impede our progress, we soon enter a belt of rhododen- 
dron trees, small and stunted here, from their exposed 



OUR SWARTHY COOK. 



273 



position. Brushing our way through them for about a 
hundred yards or so, and then emerging, we find imme- 
diately in front of us a broad piece of rock, which shuts 
out the view completely ; but climbing it, we look down 
upon a deep and silent valley, and almost over the rocky 
mountains, which have hitherto hidden some thousands 
of feet of the base of the perpetually snow-clad range. 
The snows, therefore, from this point, presented an un- 




usually superb coup d'osil, and I instantly conceived the 
idea of a moonlight picture, or at any rate a rough me- 
morandum of one. Even half an hour's work would, I 
knew, impress the subject more deeply on my memory 
for working out at leisure. 

Once more I did my utmost to arouse a little dor- 
mant enthusiasm in F , to induce him to accom- 
pany me again to this spot when the moon should be 

N N 



2 74 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

Up ; but, as usual, all eloquence was unavailing-. He 
obstinately refused to undertake anything more enter- 
prising than a cigar after dinner over the camp fire, and 
then, as he expressed it, to ' turn in.' But I make a 
small mental resolve, nevertheless, which I take care to 
keep to myself, not even confiding in Fanchyng, who I 
felt sure would be unable to keep a secret ; and by the 
time we return to camp, tents are ready for our recep- 
tion, and dinner is announced. 

When we left the dining tent to retire to our own at 
ten o'clock, the sky was beautifully clear. It seemed not 
night — for the moon was at the full — but a purer and more 
' divine prolongation ' of the day. So clear was it that we 
could plainly see each bit of jutting rock, and the shadow 
it cast upon the most distant peak, whilst the glaciers 
looked spectral in the silent heavens ; the tremendous 
precipice of Pundeem, with its dark castellated walls, 
standing out majestically against the vast glacial valley of 
Kinchinjunga. It was a sight I can never forget — that 
dazzling pile, upon the loftiest peak of which a faint 
shade of rose still lingered, as though it was dreaming 
of the morrow's sunrise. So glorious was it altogether 
that it makes me unhappy to think I cannot find words 
to express the beauty, the majesty, and the poetry of 
it ; but such scenes are an expression in themselves, and 
are more capable of being felt than spoken. I cannot 
describe it ; but the waste of snows stretching away 
as far as eye could reach, their utter loneliness, the 



DEAD FINES IN THE MOONLIGHT. 275 

perfect stillness that reigned everywhere, and the desola- 
tion they presented, impressed me with a deep sense of 
terrible repose. 

The pines, too, only added to the general desolation, 
for they were lying on the ground in every attitude of 
wild confusion. Those which had yielded to the force of 
the storm-king, blanched by time, lay like human bodies 
thrown together in a heap, as on a battle-field. Some, 
fallen across huge masses of rock, remained poised one 
upon another like mammoth skeletons, in positions where 
they fell — who shall say how many centuries ago } — 
whilst others again, left standing where they died, were 
now stiff and stark, and ghastly to look upon, in the 
ghostly moonlight. We are at an elevation now where 
they seem to have ceased to live, for none have the 
faintest vestige of foliage. 

At half-past ten o'clock, peeping forth from my tent, 
the moon was still shining brilliantly, but clouds that 
almost appeared to touch me were scurrying past. The 
snows too were veiled by a semi-transparent mist which 
half hid them, so that, my ardour somewhat abating, I 
subsided beneath the canvas, and sat on the foot of my 
little camp bed reading. At length extinguishing the 
light, I threw myself down without undressing, and was 
soon fast asleep, and the moonlight and the snows and 
my hoped-for picture were alike forgotten. But the 
evening's impressions must have been strong upon me 
still, causing my sleep to be uneasy and intermittent, for 



276 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

two hours later I awoke, and a little moonbeam was 
shining on my bed through a crack in the canvas. This 
induced me to get up to see how all was looking outside. 

Noiselessly untying the flaps which enclosed the en- 
trance, I crept out. The moon was shining so brightly 
that I could have read the smallest print by its aid, and 
the snows were positively dazzling. The sky was of that 
exquisite violet blue, or rather, what I think describes it 
better, sapphire, which one sees on clear moonlight nights 
in Italy — that land so favoured by heaven with tender 
beauteous skies. 

Now I have no wish to make myself out to be a 
heroine, being on the contrary the veriest coward ; 
never, entre notis, having yet been able to go into a dark 
room alone, or pass an open doorway at night, without 
seeing faces peering at me out of the darkness ; but some- 
how I can go through a great deal for a picture. 

It was the thought of a moment ; I never dreamt of 
possibilities. Once more groping my way under the 
* kernaughts,' I felt for my block and chalks, which I 
had prepared in readiness early in the evening, knowing 
that I could not use colours on this occasion, and throw- 
ing a cloak over my shoulders and a fur hood over my 
head, I sallied forth, closing the aperture as well as I 
could from the outside, and then pausing, held my breath 

to listen whether F was stirring ; but no ! he still 

breathed heavily. Passing C 's tent, I could hear 

that he too was fast asleep. 



I had now to make my way past the c?.mp, under 
the lee of the rhododendron bushes. The fires still 
burnt brightly, and the poor tired fellows were lying- 
prostrate around them, wrapped in deepest slumber, 
their gay-coloured gaberdines paled in the moonlight, 
except here and there, when a fire, gleaming forth with 
a sudden flash, lighted up patches of red and amber, 
which stood out prominently where all else was colourless. 

No one observed me, or, if they did, probably mis- 
took me for some erratic member of their own fraternity^ 
Amongst the number I recognised the Herculean form 
of Hatti, lying with his face upwards, and I could not 
help thinking, as I passed close to him with stealthy foot- 
steps, how easy it would have been to drive a nail into his 
head, had / been Jael the wife of tleber, and he Sisera ! 

I dared not arouse him ; to have awakened one, would 
have been to awaken all. Otherwise I should have done 
so, as I needed some one to carry my block, which, though 
no encumbrance to me at present, I knew would be so 
further on. when I should require both hands free to help 
myself along. 

The ground, which had thawed in the vicinity of the 
fires, was here thickly coated with frost, which crunched 
beneath each footfall ; yet no one moved. Nor was 
there even a breath of air stirring, to bear me company as 
I walked onwards, and it was not long before I found 
myself starting at my own shadow. The very beauty of 
the scene made me afraid, it was all so supernatural, so 



278 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

pale, so still, so passionless, so spectral. I grew cowardly, 
and, stopping short, I felt I could not face it alone. Re- 
tracing my steps as far as Fanchyng's sleeping-place on 
the outskirts of the camp, I stooped till my lips almost 
touched the covering of the tilt. 

" Fanchyng," I whispered — " Fanchyng, I want you, 
— come out ! " 

But there was no answer, though I waited long ; she 
was sleeping too heavily to be awakened by a call so 
gentle, yet I dare not speak more loudly. 

At last, despising myself for my cowardice, I deter- 
mined to be brave, and go on alone. I was soon 
under the shelter of the copse, having taken care 
to enter it by the way which F and I had pre- 
viously taken together, as a pathway had already been 
made for me there ; whilst the moon shining through the 
branches afforded quite sufficient light to enable me to 
trace it by the fallen trees, that had been cut down as 
we passed early in the evening. I was about halfway 
through, when something rose at my feet with a whr-r-r, 
which starded me greatly. I had no doubt flushed a bird, 
a moonal (hill pheasant), probably. On I went, the thick 
rhododendron leaves through which I brushed covering 
me with a shower of hoar frost. Then arrivinof at the 
rock I before mentioned, which I climbed on hands and 
knees, throwing my block before me at every few steps, 
I succeeded in reaching the top. 

What a spectacle now presented itself to my view ! 



A MIST SURROUNDS ME. 279 

In the valley lay a white lake of transparent mist, 
and rising out of it, the snows, shrouded in unearthly 
vapour, looked mysterious and ghost-like. To the right, 
rocky mountains, shattered and riven, appeared like bat- 
tlements for giant soldiery, whilst to the left were the 
beetling crags and swelling buttresses of the Singaleelah 
range. Dotted about the lesser and unsnow-clad moun- 
tains, where the moonlight fell, were portions of ' mica 
schist,' which, sparkling brilliantly, looked like stars fallen 
to earth. Stars seemed not only twinkling above, but 
below me, and this glittering * mica ' produced the most 
extraordinary effect imaginable ; whilst the dead pines 
standing with their trunks blanched, looked like phantom 
guardians of the whole. 

It was altogether such a spectral and unearthly scene, 
that I realised in an instant how utterly hopeless it 
would be to attempt to portray it, and simply stood 
entranced, losing for aw^hile even my own individuality, 
feeling that I had almost entered some new world. 

I do not know how long I had been standing there, 
when a sensation came over me as though some one 
behind were softly enveloping me in a wet sheet. Look- 
ing over my shoulder, I found that the rhododendron 
copse had vanished ; the gleam of the many camp-fires 
was visible no longer, and the rock at my feet, with every 
other object, was shut out by a white ocean of mist. 

My position was by no means a dangerous one. I 
knew that I had only to remain quietly where I stood, till 



the cloud had passed over, and all would be well ; but my 
heart beat fast and thick notwithstanding. My limbs 
were getting numb and frozen, and I knew not how long 
I could hold out. My first impulse was to call for help ; 
but trying to reason calmly with m^^self, I saw how futile 
that would be, for no one could possibly find his way 
through the copse in the mist, even if he tried, while I 
should be exposing many to the risk of falling over the 
ridge into the abyss beneath. 

As I reasoned thus with myself, the vapour grew gra- 
dually more dense, while the thickest part of the cloud 
passed over me, and I was surrounded by almost total 
darkness. A death-like stillness prevailed, the only thing 
audible being the thumping of my own heart. 

Drawing my cloak more closely round me, I struggled 
to be brave. After a short time the mist became thinner, 
shining vapour succeeded darkness, and the moon as- 
serting its supremacy gradually shone out brightly as be- 
fore, whilst a stratum of vapour which had just arisen from 
the valley seemed floating beneath my very feet. In 
stooping to pick up my block, I became conscious of the 
appearance of a dark shadow or figure opposite ; and on 
standing erect, a phantom of gigantic dimensions was 
before me. Terribly frightened, my heart this time 
stopped beating altogether, and a deadly faintness crept 
over me. I had grown nervous and superstitious. But 
summoning up all my courage, which rarely forsakes me 
utterly in times of need, I felt sure it must be only one 



A GIANT PHANTOM. 281 



of those phenomena, which I had heard of as occasionally 
to be met with in these altitudes. 

The moon was shining obliquely bcJiind me, and what 
I saw might be nothing more than my own shadow, 
greatly exaggerated, thrown upon the lake of white mist 
at my feet. Without tarrying to convince myself of 
the truth or otherwise of this hypothesis, I descended 
the rock as quickly as I could, and retraced my steps ; 
nor did I stop even to take breath till I reached the tent, 
when, for an instant pressing my ear to the canvas to 
ascertain whether F slept, I softly entered. 

For one moment only I thought he was waking, as 
the open ' kernaughts ' admitted a flood of light ; in 
addition to which I must, forsooth, catch my foot in the 
dhurrie, and overturn one of the baggage baskets leaning 
against the wall of the tent ; but he only turned over on 
the other side, and I could hear by his stertorous breath- 
ing that he was sleeping soundly as before. 







CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE BETHEL ON THE MOUNTAIN-TOP. 

It was very difficult to arouse myself the next morning, 
when Catoo came calling me as usual with importunate 
voice. How heartily I wished he had been at the bottom of 
the Red Sea, as I lay silent, pretending not to hear ! But, 
tiresome man ! with him there was no remission, he only 
shouted more loudly than ever, ' Mem sahib ! Mem sahib ! 
dary hi (it is late),' considerably emphasising the latter 
word. 

' You are not well, my child,' said F tenderly, on 

observing my inability to move. ' I allow you to do too 
much ; you must have strained yourself last evening 
unpacking those portmanteaus. What a wretch I was to 
let you do it ! ' 

Wretch ? what a fiend then must / be, not to tell him 
all, instead of allowing him to reproach himself for my 
misdoings. 

' Perhaps it was the straining I got in that water- 
course yesterday,' I replied meekly, feeling desperately 
guilty the while. ' Get me a cup of tea, and I shall soon 
be all right again.' 



THEY MAKE AN INVALID OF ME. 283 

What would I not have given to be left in peace ! 
I verily believe that nothing would have moved me that 
morning but ' conscience, that makes cowards of us all,' so 
afraid was I that any manifestation of fatigue should result 
in the oozing out of the truth, in case anyone of the camp 
did happen to see me pass. I made an effort therefore, 
which I think did at last constitute me a heroine for life. 

' You are feverish too,' continued F , watching me 

narrowly. ' Your face is quite flushed.' 

At this juncture Fanchyng entered. ' Eh ! ' she ex- 
claimed, elevating her flat eyebrows, and opening her 
funny little oblique-shaped eyes as wide as they would go. 
* The mem-sahib has caught cold ; she must not go on this 
morning, but stay behind with the sahib log2ie\ and see! 
her head is quite hot besides.' 

The diagnosis was identical then ; if I did not make 
vigorous resistance at once, between the two I should 
soon be converted into a downright invalid. 

' There is no doubt about it,' continued F . 

' Fanchyng is quite right, there is a determination of blood 
to the head ; I must go and consult C immediately.' 

' For pity's sake,' I cried, catching hold of his hand as 
it still rested on my fevered brain, ' do nothing of the 
kind. I am, believe me, quite well ; I had rather a bad 
night, that is all, and — and the fact is, I think I caught a 
slight chill ; and if you will sit down quietly and not be 

angry, and promise above all not to tell C (for I 

knew if he did I should never hear the last of it, my 



unsuccessful ramble would be a joke against me for ever), 
I'll let you know everything.' 

And I did tell him all ; at which he tried to look 
angry, but could not succeed, feeling, I rather suspect, that 
I had been punished enough already; and he presently 
promised to allow me to go on early with Fanchyng as 
usual. 

No sooner was I up than Catoo, like a bird of ill- 
omen, informed me that our kitmutgar was indisposed, 
also two of my dandy-bearers. The poor fellows get 
fever from exposure to the great variation of temperature, 
caused by the hot sun by day and the intense cold at night. 
This kind of fever is very common in India, but is neither 
infectious nor dangerous, and generally yields to quinine, 
of which, happily, our kind and thoughtful host has 
brought a good supply. 

Hearing of the illness of two of my men, and not 
willing to tax the others too greatly, I decide upon walk- 
ing part of the way, feeling much better since I arose. 
Fanchyng and I, therefore, with the rest of my body- 
guard, go on as usual, in advance of F and C , 

who remain to see the camp broken up, and the men well 
on ahead with their loads ; a very necessary precaution, 
experience having shown us that, unless they do so, the 
coolies often lag behind, and, instead of finding tents 
pitched at the end of our march, we have to sit down and 
shiver till they come straggling up, probably two hours 
after our arrival.. 



A MAN CLAD IN PANTHER SKINS. 



285 



Although Fanchyng is not pretty, Hke my little Lattoo, 
of whom I thought so often, and wished for many a time, 
yet to watch her breasting the breeze as she climbed the 
steeps, and scrambled in and out amongst the rocks, 
was a fair sight to see, — her gay-coloured dress, fanned 
by the wind, fluttering in curves and lines that were full 
of natural grace and beauty. She might generally be seen 
walking hand-in-hand with her brother, an interloper also, 
— a ' stow-away,' who had smuggled himself into camp a 
few days after we started, and whom F — — now employs 
to carry the basket of tent pegs, as well as making him 
useful in various other ways. 

Journeying on, we meet a man clad almost entirely 
in panther skins, followed by a number of little shaggy 
goats, whose necks are highly ornamented with tassels of 
scarlet wool, and bells hang- 
ing round them, their long 
hair trailing on the ground 
showing that they also have 
been clothed for ' moving in 
arctic circles.' All are laden 
with little pack-saddles filled 
with salt, procured from the 
salt lakes in Thibet, and are 
about as picturesque little 
creatures as can possibly be 
seen. 

The Bhootias have a very singular tradition, or rather 




286 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

prophecy, concerning the lakes I have referred to, one of 
which is so large that no salt has hitherto been found in it. 
But, according to the prophecy, this lake will one day also 
dry up, and salt be obtained in it ; and when this comes 
to pass, it will be conveyed, not as now by the natives 
of the country, but by a white people from the south, who 
will carry it themselves to the cities of the plains. It is 
said that this lake is already drying up, and the natives, 
expecting to find salt in it, are consequently dreading the 
fulfilment of the prophecy. 

There is another singular and very ancient tradition, 
believed in by Mahomedans, Hindoos, and Rajputs alike, 
which, though not quite apposite to the one I have just 
related, is nevertheless interesting, as showing the general 
belief amongst them, that this land will one day be sub- 
jected to a European Power. Towards the end of the 
world, it is said, a white man is to come riding on a 
white horse, bearing a white flag. All the nations of the 
world are to fall under his sway, and their names to 
be written on the flag, and there will then be a reign 
of universal peace and brotherhood, — a prophecy which, 
singularly enough, bears a very strong resemblance to 
that in the Book of the Revelation of St. John. 

And now, having made a very steep ascent, we find 
ourselves in open moorland, and the frost begins to tighten 
over everything. Here and there a solitary rhododendron 
bush may be seen, whose hardy leaves, pinched with 
cold, shiver in the blast like living things. On our way 



THE COLD BECOMES MORE INTENSE. 287 

we saw several marmots, little animals very much like rats, 
only of a larger size. As we came along, we accidentally 
turned up two of their nests, which they make beneath 
the large stones. Like dormice, their habit is to sleep 
six months in the year ; but they are now bustling to and 
fro, gathering in their winter store of rhododendron- 
buds, evidently expecting a long siege of cold weather. 

All Nature wears a dreary aspect, and is wintry and 
triste. Even in the shelter of the chinks and furrows, in 
the rock fragments, that lie along our pathway, the little 
black and white lichens tremble with the cold. Observ- 
ing plenty of dead wood lying about, I request my people 
to drag it along, and a blazing fire is soon made, by the 
side of which Fanchyng and I sit and wait for the rest. 
In an hour's time they come creeping along, in twos 
and threes, followed by the gentlemen. As we ascend 
higher, the cold grows more intense, and the wind blows 
stronger. The ground is covered with long coarse grass, 
every blade of which is bearded with an icicle ; and with 
the exception of this, and the aconite, which follows 
our footsteps everywhere, there is scarce a weed or tiny 
rock plant visible. 

A short distance before us, we see a small cairn of 
stones, on the top of which is a cluster of bamboo 
canes, hung with streamers of coloured rag, all fluttering 
in the blast. Some blackened embers, the remains of a 
recent fire, induce us to believe that the wild-looking 
man leading the salt-laden goats, whom we met early in 



the day, had raised it as a lowly tribute to his God : and 
there was something very beautiful in this evidence of 
his faith in the Unseen, and in his having raised this 
* little Bethel ' on the summit of the lonely mountain, 
unobserved by human eye, in the presence alone of Him 
who dwelleth not in temples made with hands, and in 
whose sight those worthless many-coloured rags — the best 
he had to offer — may be as acceptable as the gorgeous 
banners one often sees in modern Christian churches. I 
wonder, will the angel who bears the golden censer deign 
to add his prayers to those of the * faithful,' and, mingling 
them with incense, permit them to ascend to the one Great 

Spirit ? I trow yes. 

Ah, me ! who amongst us Christians, with all our 
boasted superiority and greater privileges, would thus 
pause on his solitary journey, after the example of this 
poor ' benighted heathen,' or of One, who though He 
needed it not in His divine nature, yet 'rose up early, 
and sought a place to pray ? ' 




C CALLS A HALT. 289 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

WE FIND TENT-LIFE PARTICULARLY CHARMING IN WET 

WEATHER ! 

What a day it turned out to be ! The wind, increas- 
ing each moment, no longer blew, but cut one like 
knives, and gave one slaps in the face, and boxes in the 
ear, hitting out hard and straight, as though it meant it. 
It hissed savagely, and howled dismally, and whistled 
defiantly, and seemed to penetrate every thread of one's 
garments, and to blow one's very teeth down one's throat. 
It came knocking against the poor coolies with such force, 
that they staggered beneath their loads like drunken men, 
and then it scoured round them as if In glee, before rush- 
ing off to some other victim. Then the rain began pat- 
tering drop by drop upon the hard rhododendron leaves, 
and finished by coming down in sheets, and in a short time 
we were as wet as we could possibly be. Well, there was 
at least some comfort and consolation in that. We could 
be no wetter at any rate, and knew the worst ; but we 
were so blinded by it, not to say benumbed with the 
cold, that, observing a level piece of ground half a mile 
in front of us, which looked suitable for encampment, 

C called a halt. 

p p 



Our purpose had been to go on as far as Mount 
Singaleelah to-day, but I doubt whether we should have 
been able to reach it before an inconveniently late hour, 
even if the rain had not made our further progress alto- 
gether impracticable. Fortunately, all the baggage coolies 




are pretty well up, so that there is no delay in getting 
tents pitched, &c. 

Arriving first, I watch F and C breasting 

the storm, as they plod through the wind and rain. 
Although there are no impediments in the shape of trees 

on the spot which C has chosen, yet, having been 

slightly descending the last hour, we have again come 



TENT LIFE IN WET WEATHER. 291 

upon dense vegetation of the smaller kind, all of which 
must be cleared before anything can be done ; and if 
in fine weather tent-pitching is attended with so much 
noise and excitement, it can readily be imagined how 
great it must be during rain, when the hubbub and con- 
fusion increase tenfold. 

Amidst the general excitement, the only things that 
seem to take life as it comes, and make themselves per- 
fectly at home, are the moor ghees. No sooner are they 
released from their baskets, than, giving themselves a 
shake and a flutter, they strut about as if nothing had 
happened. 

The first thing invariably thought of, on arrival at en- 
campment, is to make a fire ; but this time, as I stand 
dripping and watch the process, it seems as though it 
never would be accomplished, defying as it does the 
efforts of each man, who, despising everyone else, tries 
his hand in turn with equal failure. The moss and 
sticks have become so saturated with wet, that it is almost 
hopeless to expect them to ignite. 

At length, shivering to my very heart's core, I see 
a little smoke issuing from the Prometheus-like hand 
of Catoo, who, holding the moss, is blowing it with the 
most coaxing and irresistible pufi"s, till it rewards him at 
last by bursting into a flame. Meanwhile Tendook has 
been hastily pitching his tent, which, being of a different 
kind, requires less ' fixing,' and now comes to beg I 
will avail myself of it ; an offer I accept, although I have 



2 92 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

my misgivings whether, .wet as I am, I shall be very 
much the better for the shelter. I am already a walking 
cataract, a miniature Niagara, — a hundred tiny stream- 
lets, formed by the dripping of my waterproof, eddying 
down the incline, and creating quite a respectable Mael- 
strom, as they meet together in a pool below. 

Divesting myself of my soaking ' waterproof,' which 
is altogether a misnomer in these mountain regions, 
where the downpour is but feebly expressed by a pelting 
of the feline and canine species, and where it rains little 
short of dragons and megatheria. I enter, and seat myself 
upon an empty baggage basket in the middle of the tent, 
placed there for the purpose by the thoughtful Tendook, 
and soon discover that the difference between standing out 
in the rain and escaping from it is even less than I had 
imagined. The tent is square, and its canvas being single, 
the whole thing is evidently intended for fine weather only. 
The rain first saturates the highly ornamented canvas, 
and then comes through. I watch it trickle silently down 
the ' kernaughts,' sitting upon my basket, dripping as 
contentedly as I can, knowing that ere long a further 
douche awaits me. 

In a few minutes down comes the anticipated drip, 
drip, drip, upon my head, gently and tenderly at first, 
in single drops, and then in streams. I now take refuge 
under an umbrella — a ponderous arrangement of the 
Gamp order, with brass handle, green of course, and ' like- 
wige' dripping, — also belonging to Tendook. Nothing 



A WET SPECTRE. 



^93 



is farther from my intention, however, than taking cold, 
or allowing m)'self to be miserable ; but in those moist 
moments, whilst sitting like Patience on a monument, I 
think I did wonder what in the world made people travel. 
Forth from the pelting pitiless rain, like a wet spectre, 
comes C , carrying a glass with water in it, together 




with a bottle of cognac, of which he insists upon my tak- 
ing a little, to prevent ' cold and fever, and all that sort of 
thing, you know;' and I certainly never saw a man look so 
wet in my life — a fish was nothing to it. He was dripping 
from every thread and pore. From the sleeves of his coat, 
from the lobes of his ears, from his fingers' ends, it fell in 
infinitesimal waterfalls, whilst the brim of his helmet was 



2 94 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

encircled by a row of bead-like drops. Looking up at 
him, I watched a little streamlet wind its way round the 
helmet in search of outlet, and, overflowing its borders, 
trickle down the bridge of his aristocratic nose, as though 
it had been a shoot ready-made for the occasion. He 
complimented me, also, on my moist appearance, and 
told me I looked like a bit of salvage from a wreck. 

F had chosen a small piece of table-land below, 

about twenty feet long, by ten broad, on the extreme 
ridge of the mountain — a kind of natural shelf — and 
congratulated himself on having discovered a delightful 
little spot for our tent, requiring no ' clearing,' as no 
vegetation of any kind was growing upon it. But I shall 
always be under the impression to my dying day, that 
that charming spot, on which nothing manifestly cottld 
grow, was situated on the 'watershed,' or source of some 
river, such a thoroughly watery situation did it subse- 
quently prove to be. 

In a quarter of an hour, that seemed little short of a 

century, F , who has been doing his best to speed on 

the pitching and arrangement of the tent for my reception, 
sends Tendook up to say that all is ready. As I went 
outside, the first object on which my eye rested was 
Fanchyng, coming through the driving rain, and may I 
never again behold such a poor, miserable, drowned wretch 
as she looked ! whilst, pour combler de mish^e, she must 
needs plunge on her way into an unseen bog, from which 
she had to be extricated by the united efforts of two 



F IN DIFFICULTIES. 295 

baggage coolies, who were following close behind her, and 
then without her mocassins, which remained, beyond all 
hope of recovery, somewhere at the bottom. 

Neither is the cup of 7?iy misfortunes yet full, for, de- 
scending to the tent by a slippery path, I formed a closer 
acquaintance with Mother Earth than I intended, not only 
covering myself with mud, but spoiling my hat, whose 
beauty was now gone for ever. So thoroughly shaken and 
overcome was I by my fall, at the moment of entering the 
tent, that I could have cried heartily had there been a 
clean, dry spot whereon to sit down and have it out com- 
fortably ; but as no such luxury existed, I tried to console 

myself instead, by listening to F growling. And 

surely, if 'good men struggling with difficulties' are 'a 
spectacle for the gods,' he must have been a source of no 
ordinary entertainment and delight to those celestial 
magnates. During the process of tent-pitching he had 
worked himself up to a degree of mental irritation very 
unusual with him, but by no means to be wondered at 
under the circumstances, resulting, as he afterwards frankly 
confessed, in a very nebulous state of mind. 

' My dear,' he exclaimed, as I presented myself — the 
'my dear' uttered sententiously, and in the very reverse 
of a propitiatory tone — ' this all comes of your travelling 
in a dandy : if you had done what I wished, it never 
would have happened.' 

Now, it was quite true, he had wished me not to 
travel in a dandy, but in a dhoolie instead. Dhoolies are 



296 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

of two kinds — the ' ferocious dhoolie' (a sort of bed), as 
we have seen ; and another of a totally different character, 
where the person carried sits sideways in a sort of sling, 
the pole passing just in front of the neck, producing a 
painful feeling of decapitation, the upper part of the body 
being on one side of the pole, and the lower on the other, 
so arranged as to balance the machine. This mode of con- 
veyance is lighter, and consequently more easily carried ; 
but I objected to it, as being less comfortable than 
the Bareilly dandy. It was, consequently, dandy versus 
dhoolie for several weeks before starting ; for I am not one 
who so meekly bows her head to lordly rule as perhaps 
wife should — rule too of the mildest and most indulgent 
always. So I felt subdued, and filled with self-reproach ; 
yet I could not quite be brought to see how my obstinacy 
in travelling in a dandy could very materially alter the 
condition of the weather, and it was certainly puzzling 
to understand by what process he had arrived at this 
conclusion ; but having so arrived, he had a right to stick 
to his theory with the tenacity of a Briton. 

' If you hadn't persisted in travelling in a dandy, my 
dear, it never could have happened.' 

But what he meant by the statement I hadn't the 
ghost of an idea ; for he uttered it in the tone of one who 
had made up his mind to pursue a pet theory against all 
invasion, and with whom surrender was out of the ques- 
tion. So I did not attempt to argue the point, but left 
him master of the situation. 



CATOO TO THE RESCUE. 297 

As our tent, unlike Tendook's, is fortunately imper- 
vious to external moisture, we have no need of an umbrella, 
being quite dry overhead, whilst a thick carpet of rhodo- 
dendron leaves, which at this elevation are fully fifteen 
inches long and an eighth of an inch thick, had already 
been spread over the saturated ground. All, however, is 
unavailing ; I sink ankle-deep in the ' dismal swamp ' at 
each step I take. Wherever my foot rests but for an 
instant, it becomes an island surrounded by a pool of 
liquid mud, and I begin to feel in the condition of an 
amphibious animal, as defined by Charles Kingsley in 
his ' Water Babies ' — a something that ' can't live on the 
land, and dies in the water.' 

I sit down upon a portmanteau, but it is only out of 
Scylla into Charybdis ; it sinks so much even under my 
light weight, that I feel I must be descending into the very 
bowels of the earth. Whereupon I stand up again, and 
vainly try to change my soaking boots ; but no sooner is 
one foot dry-shod than the other is wet, and this delight- 
ful state of things would no doubt have lasted till now, 

had not F , in an agony of despair, shouted for Catoo, 

to see if he could suggest anything to mend matters. 
That ingenious functionary soon obeyed the summons, 
and I think I detected in his laughing eye a full apprecia- 
tion of the absurdity of our position, which must have 
been quite irresistible to a Lepcha. 

After a moment's reflection, he suggests that branches 
of rhododendron and large stones be substituted for the 

Q Q 



carpet of leaves. Both are easily and quickly procured, 
and they answer the purpose of keeping our feet above 
the wet soil at any rate. By dint of balancing ourselves 
first on one foot and then on the other, we do at last 
contrive to make a tolerably satisfactory toilet, when, alas ! 

in an unlucky moment F- sits down on one of the 

little iron bedsteads, which first gives a loud snap, and 
then he and it subside on a level with the ground. 

We had both ere this reached the climax of growl- 
ing, and, as extremes meet, were just ready to turn 
the corner in the other direction, when the woe-begone 
bedstead, with its lame leg, and the ' come-over-and-help- 
us ' expression it wore, proved too much for our gravity, 
and ended in our indulging in a thoroughly hearty 
laugh. 

Completely worn out by our exertions, but feeling 
conscious that we still owed a duty to society, we as- 
cended the quagmire which led to the dining-tent, where 
we found ourselves, figuratively speaking, in smooth 
waters, everything wearing as snug and comfortable an 

appearance as possible, C assuring us that, being high 

and dry, he had experienced none of those inconveni- 
encies to which we had been exposed down below. 

The most that we expected for refection on such an 
inclement night was a ' cold swaree ; ' but the cloth had 
already been laid with all due propriety, and the pre- 
liminary solemnities, which usually accompany an Eng- 
lishman's dinner, be he where he may, were being 



MATTERS BEGIN TO MEND. 299 

undertaken by the usual staff of kitmutgars. Our host, 
conservative to a defrree, was wont to regard irregular 
habits as demoraHsing, if not altogether sinful ; and he had 
evidently imbued the cook with a similar sentiment, for 
very soon a dinner was served which quite amazed us all. 
It must have been a supreme effort on his part, under such 
difficulties, and I know it was a supreme moment to us, 
hungry as we were ; and no one could have appreciated 

C s conservatism more than we did then, or have 

done more ample justice to its results. 

Before leaving the dining-tent, F collected the 

whole camp together, and gave a portion of rum to 
each. On returning to our ' watershed,' or whatever it 
might be, on which our tent was situated, we found the 
rain had quite ceased, and a solitary tearful little star was 
doing its best to shine above a long line of black cloud. 
Away in the western horizon the sky was comparatively 
clear, giving some hope of a better state of things on the 
morrow ; and on entering our little ark, we also found that 
the waters there had abated considerably. The rain hav- 
ing ceased during our absence, the dhurrie had been laid 
down over the floor, and there was a manifest improve- 
ment in affairs generally. The kettle too — which always 
seems to be in good spirits — was singing its very heart 
out on the bright little stove, as if to say there was plenty 
of comfort yet in life, and we might as well cheer up and 
make the best of everything as it did. 

The first thing I determined on doing was to wash 



300 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

those portions of my travelling dress which had become 
soiled by my fall. I had insisted on Fanchyng's chang- 
ing her clothes and going straight to her lair on arrival, 
telling her I would dispense with her services for the 
night ; so tucking up my sleeves, I buckled to valiantly, 
as if to the manner born ; and we should no doubt have 
made an interesting picture, had an artist been here 
to paint us. — Materia — picturesque contents of the tent 
itself : stove at other end ; vulgar kettle sending forth 

its steam ; F just composing himself in the arms 

of Morpheus ; my scarlet dress and mocassins hang- 
ing on a line to dry ; various baggage baskets of all sorts 
and sizes in the corner ; lantern suspended from tent- 
pole ; and — yes ! why not ? — myself also, by this time sur- 
rounded by a cloud of steam, scrubbing away vigorously 
in a large brass ' chilumchee,' or basin. Subject — ' An 
Interior.' 

My hat was spoiled beyond all remedy ; my dress too, 
I soon found, had sustained great damage, my feeble 
scrubbing making very little impression upon it ; but my 
mocassins, save that they presented what is termed a 
' cockled ' appearance from the rain, were a * thing of 
beauty still, and a joy for ever.' 

Congratulating me on my picturesque appearance, 

F soon fell asleep, remarking that, after all, it was 

'clean dirt,' and if I failed in my praiseworthy endeavours, 
he supposed it would ' wear off ; ' evidently glad to dis- 
miss the subject on such easy terms, and be left in peace 



/ 'BUCKLE to: 



301 



instead of being called upon to assist in the process. He 
was soon snoring sweetly, keeping up a trombone accom- 
paniment to the musical laving of the water in C major 
against the sides of the ' chilumchee.' 




:>^ 



{Frojn F 's memorandum book. Sketch from memory.) 



302 THE INDIAN AIFS. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



FACES IN THE ROCKS. 



The next morning at the first peep of dawn, creeping 
softly out to ascertain what sort of day it was Hkely to 

be, 1 am not a Httle surprised to find F , who has 

preceded me, standing in a very matutinal costume look- 
ing also at the indications of the weathen 

The sky is ominously red, and miles of leaden vapour 
lying in the valley, are heaving wildly like an angry sea, 
which, to look down upon and into, makes one positively 
giddy. While we stand here, we are greeted by the muffled 
tones of our host, proceeding from beneath his rugs, 
likewise making anxious inquiries concerning the weather. 
At the same moment Catoo appears, the bearer of the 
very alarming information that the cook has fever, and 
bahut bimar hai (is very ill) ; and that two of the ponies 
are disabled, one from a sore back, the other lame from 
an injury sustained on the march hither. This latter in- 
telligence, however, affects us but little, as they are never 
ridden now ; but as misfortunes seldom come alone, he 
adds with a rueful countenance, that our ' Sappers ' have 
bolted. 



A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. 303 

This is indeed a serious matter, and we are at a 
loss to know how we can go on without them ; but 
Tendook, joining- us at this moment, says he thinks it 
more than hkely, that they have simply fled to a small 
village twelve miles distant down the gorge, to find 
shelter from the rain, where they will probably remain 
till the sky clears, and then join us again. 

Exposure to the damp, no less than sudden changes 
in the temperature, invariably brings on an attack of 
fever and ague with these people, whose physique, I 
fancy, is greatly impaired by eating so little animal 
food. They consequently lose all pluck in bad weather, 
although at other times they will bear cold, fatigue, and 
even hunger uncomplainingly. Rain they cannot endure, 
and I doubt whether any of them would have accompanied 
us had they foreseen this unprecedented state of things. 
There surely must be some great atmospheric mismanage- 
ment somewhere. One would be inclined to imagine that 
Oberon and Titania had had another falling out ; for, 
as I have said before, after the breaking up of the rainy 
season, which we thought had taken place, with its accus- 
tomed punctuality, six weeks ago, no rain is expected 
till the monsoon comes round again. 

This is a chapter of accidents. No sooner are we 
seated at breakfast, than one of our kitmutgars informs 
us that the cajf is ill, in consequence of which the cow 
refuses to yield her milk. We are none of us the worse, 
however, at present, for the wetting we had yesterday, so 



that we must not complain, but cheerfully put up with such 
small vexations as the foregoing. 

We had struck tents, and were under weigh, when 

C was overtaken by another messenger, but this 

time, happily, of no evil tidings. He came to say that a 
Soubah — the diplomatic agent of the Rajah of Sikkim — 




r^]P^-^ 



was on his way to meet him, and that we should find him 
sitting on the top of Mount Singaleelah^ for thus the 
message was quaintly worded in the vernacular. So 
singular an announcement naturally amused us not a little, 
and, picturing him to our imagination as a sort of sphinx 
or presiding genius of the peak, the above was of course 
the kind of thing we expected to see ; but I beg to say that 

the pipe is an addition and after-thought of F . 

We now pass through scenery extravagantly wild 



FACES IN THE ROCKS. 305 



and barren in the extreme, for Nature is here destitute of 
vegetation of every kind, except that of small herbaceous 
plants and a coarse shaggy grass, brown at this season, 
which hangs over the stern and ancient rocks, whose tints, 
from the combined influence of time and weather, have 
become so subdued and saddened, that the hardy lichens 
and bright little rock-plants seem to have crept into their 
cracks and crannies to hide themselves, as if afraid of 
* looking out of keeping ' with everything that is so very 
old and sad. 

All is rendered more weird and savage still by the 
heavy masses of cloud which, like boiling vapour, con- 
tinually roll over us ; whilst the jagged portions of the 
enormous blocks of gneiss which lie along our pathway, 
occasionally wrenching fragments of it from the general 
mass hold it clinging to themselves, like spirits caught in 
the arms of giants. Everywhere rocks, heaped one upon 
another, are hewn and sculptured 
into such fantastic shapes and forms, 
that one cannot help fancying that 
giants in primseval time must have 
rudely fashioned their Ideal, and 
then left it for successive eenera- 
tions to marvel at. What castles in 
the air ! What grim fortresses ! 
What colossal faces look down upon us ! the long grass 
which hangs over their foreheads like tangled hair only 
adding to the resemblance. 

R R 




3o6 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 




At six o'clock, but still broad daylight, even in 
this wintry season and misty weather~for the sun sets 
tardily in this northern land — the mountains far and near 
resound with the hammering of tent-pegs, and we catch 
sight of our encampment in a shel- 
tered hollow enclosed to the right by 
a mural precipice. On one side 
rise sterile mountains, on the other 
stretches a verdant valley, and deeps 
wildly beautiful. All the men are 
well up, and pitching tents. Many of 
the tired baggage coolies may be 
seen already fast asleep, whilst others, squatting before 
their fires, are cooking their evening meal. Waiting the 
completion of my tent, I climb a little knoll, whence I can 
see, without being seen, the food of these simple folk not 
only cooked but eaten ; and one instance is, I fancy, an 
example of that of all the rest, as far as custom is con- 
cerned, be they Lepchas, Bhootias, or Nepaulese. 

Rice is first boiled in a ' deckshee,' and when suf- 
ficiently tender is taken out and strained back again 
through a cloth — usually part of their clothing! — till the 
water attains the consistency of arrowroot. This, which 
is called * cungi,' they drink, leaving the residue of the 
rice to be eaten separately. This rice, with an ear or two 
of parched Indian corn, formed the only nourishment of 
these hardy mountaineers after their long day's toil. 

I am now summoned to my own repast by the 



squeaky and intermittent tones of our kitmutgar, who 
has lost his fever, but, in common with many others, 
is suffering from severe cold, his voice coming and going 
in fitful gusts and bursts of sound. In fact, by this time 
we are all experiencmg the disagreeable consequences of 
yesterday's campaign, in the shape of colds of one kind or 

another, more or less highly developed ; C , on whom 

the greater elevation is evidently beginning to result 
in slight mental obliquity, gravely announcing at dinner 
the startling fact, that we are all suffering from the effects 
of to-morrow ! 

We were still seated at table, and everything was pro- 
ceeding with the usual amount of ceremony and decorum, 
when all at once we heard a great uproar in camp. Every- 
one would seem to have congregated in one common centre, 
and to be engaged in very noisy and angry discussion. 
Suspending operations for an instant, we go out to ascer- 
tain the cause, and behold our tall Bhootia Syce, the 
central figure of the crowd, holding by the neck an un- 
happy and very ill-clad native, whom he was dragging 
along in the direction of our tent, amidst the shrieks and 
howls of the rest, all of whom follow in the wake. 

This unusual excitement arises from the poor wretch 
having appropriated to himself the Syce's ' camul ' or 
blanket. He is a stranger, who joined camp this mornmg, 
ostensibly to earn an honest pice or two ; but it appears 
now to be the general opinion that he did so for the sole 
purpose of seeing what he could 'annex,' and I scarcely 



3o8 THE INDIAN A IPS. 



know what fate would have awaited him, had not C- 



and F interfered, insisting that the Syce, who seemed 

much incHned to take the law into his own hands, should 
relinquish his hold. 

The verdict having been given, and justice adminis- 
tered by C , peace and tranquillity followed, on the 

restitution of the blanket ; and the culprit, being permitted 
to leave camp without further punishment, took to 
his heels, fled down the mountain with the swiftness of 
an arrow, and was out of sight in an instant. 

This is the place where we hoped to have found the 
Soubah awaiting our arrival ; but, contrary to our ex- 
pectations, he is not here. I fancy the recent heavy rains 
may have made prolonged ' sitting on the mountain ' 
rather a damp and uncomfortable proceeding, and that 
he probably returned with precipitation for warmth and 
shelter to his own quarters, wherever they may happen 
to be. But there are manifold evidences of some recent 
' presence,' for in places where the ground is smoothest, 
curious bamboo tables, with high benches alongside them, 
have been made — a delicate attention, Tendook assures 
us, on the part of the Soubah, who has caused them to be 
prepared for us. These hill people, like all Orientals, take 
their food squatted on the ground, so that even in this 
remote part of the world, some dim tradition of the man- 
ners and customs of Europeans must have reached them. 
They could, however, have expected nothing short of 
giants, for the benches were so enormously high that C 



FORESHADOWINGS OF THE SOUBAJI. 309 

himself, although measuring more than six feet, could not, 
when seated on them, reach the ground even with his 
toes, whilst the tables were equally high in proportion. 

• By such small tokens did this mysterious individual 
bid us welcome ; but, besides all these, here and there, 
little stacks of newly cut wood were piled, in readiness 
for our bivouac — an attention our poor men were duly 
grateful for, saving them, as it did, the fatigue and trouble 
of cutting it themselves, after their long day's march. To 
our great relief, Catoo here meets us with the gratifying 
intelligence that the little corps of ' Sappers ' have re 
turned to camp. 

After dinner, we have a long discussion over the fire 
as to our future route ; our attendants having urged us to 
alter it, and by leaving the Singaleelah Range, which 
would take us in a north-westerly direction over the 
Dunigongla and Kanglanamo Passes — the only approach 
to the glaciers in this route — to strike off hence to 
Pemionchi, and thence to travel due east to Jongli. 

The reason they give for wishing us to change our 
original intention is, that whilst it was raining heavily 
with us, it was, in all probability, snowing in the greater 
elevations, and that, should such be the case, the passes 
would be choked with snow, and also that henceforward 
there will be no tracks to guide us along the way. We 
do not mean to abandon our first plans, however, unless 
obliged, believing their advice is not wholly disinterested, 
and that they are only trying to frighten us, hoping thereby 



3IO THE INDIAN ALPS. 

to succeed in inducing us to go to Pemionchi, where many 
of them — Tendook amongst the number — have friends. 
Besides which, a pilgrimage to the Buddhist temple and 
monastery at that place is a soul-saving exercise, a benefit 
we are not yet disposed to confer upon them ; for, should 
we consent to their proposal, not only should we have to 
traverse the same road twice — as we propose returning by 
way of Pemionchi—but, after having made so consider- 
able an ascent, should have to descend at once seven 
thousand feet, and travel up an almost perpendicular path 
to Jongli, which stands at an elevation of fourteen thousand 
feet, and thence again have to come down to the valley 
of the Ratong, before we could reach even the base 
of the Snowy Range. We therefore await with great 
anxiety the arrival of the Soubah, who will, we hope, be 
able to give us some trustworthy information, and help 
us to a decision. 

It begins to be a marvel to us all in these days, that we 
do not actually go mad from want of sleep, for the people 
of our camp — the greater number of whom, worn out by 
the day's fatigue, are asleep within two hours of arrival 
— are as lively as crickets at midnight, about which time 
they all begin talking and gambling, the latter being a per- 
fect passion with these mountaineers. It is quite impos- 
sible to keep them quiet, and if they are not gambling, 
they either drawl out Thibetan songs, in a melancholy 
strain that makes one's sleep sepulchral, or set up an ex- 
temporaneous howl, in which all join in dismal discord. 



ARCADIAN STRAINS. 



311 



Then from afar, during brief intervals of silence, 
come the Arcadian notes of a shepherd's pipe, played by 
little Rags, one of my dandy-bearers, which break the still- 
ness not unmusically with strains plaintive and soothing 
to the ear. 

These dissipated people keep their fires burning all 
night, replenishing them from time to time with the 
canes of the small bamboo, which, bursting in the flames, 
make loud explosions like that of musketry, all wildly 
echoed from rock to rock, and everything is bitterly an- 
tagonistic to sleep. 




/^>,'/:7r"^ 



"i'^-^ti''-- 



312 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

MOUNT SINGALEELAH, 12,336 FEET. 

The cold now being very great at night at these eleva- 
tions, I suggested to F that some better arrangement 

should be made for Fanchyng's shelter, proposing that a 
little blanket tent be rigged up at the back of our own, 
just large enough to contain her when lying at full length. 
This was easily accomplished by means of two sticks 
stuck into the ground at head and foot, and tied together 
at the top, after the manner of gipsies' tents, one long 
one being placed horizontally between them. This, with 
a blanket thrown over it, and a large piece of waterproof 
sheeting covering all, with which we supplied her, made 
exceedingly snug quarters. 

During the small hours I fancied I heard myself called 
twice, ' Mem sahib ! Mem sahib ! ' the sound apparently 
proceeding from Fanchyng's tent. Presently there was a 
piercing shriek, beginning in a high key, and descending 
the gamut like a groan. 

F was on his feet in an instant, and making the 

most rapid toilet he could assume, more asleep than 
awake, poor fellow, shouldered an umbrella, which I 



F DISTURBED FROM ITTS SLUMBERS. 313 




could see by the dim light afforded by the lantern he had 
mistaken for his rifle, and thus equipped went forth man- 
fully to the rescue, with obscure 
notions of burglars, fire, and 
wild beasts blended together. 

Walking in the direction of 
Fanchyng's tent, he found that 
young person standing erect, 
and apparently much fright- 
ened, declaring she had seen 
a snake rear its head at the 
foot of her tent. From her de- 
scription, it could have been 
little short of a python or 
the sea-serpent himself She 

had doubtless eaten fungus, or lichen, or some other 
indigestible compound, before retiring for the night ; or 
her change of quarters had affected her slumbers, and it 

was all the result of a dream, as F , fully awake by 

this time, tried to assure her, when, on making a minute 
search, he found nothing. 

At length dawn arriving, I got up to see the sun rise 
above the noble Singaleelah range. 

As I have stated, three sides of our encampment are 
bounded by sterile mountains, which frown down upon us 
with a menacing aspect ; but below, stretches a wondrous 
expanse of valley, and the eye wanders on this side over 
mountain steeps, from their barren summits clothed with 

s s 



314 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

arctic lichen, and here and there a rugged pine, down to 
the region of tropical vegetation, where the outlines of 
the stately palm and feathery bamboo may frequently be 
recognised, even from this altitude, and the whole forms a 
combination of gentle beauty and savage grandeur rarely 
to be met with. 

As we ascend and descend, it is exceedingly interesting 
to note the changes which take place in the vegetation, 
not only in the trees themselves and their parasites, but in 
the small plants which clothe the ground. We enter the 
region of a particular tree, and as we leave that behind, 
another takes its place ; and so on with the smaller flora. 
We pass, for instance, through a zone or belt of pines, rho- 
dodendrons, and hill-bamboo ; then descending further, we 
come upon chestnut, oak, maple, birch, acacia, cherry, 
pandanus-palm, sol, plantain, and others ad infinitMm, till 
we reach a variety of tropical palms and bamboo in the 
warmer climate of the valleys. Even at this elevation 
there are far fewer deciduous trees than one sees in the 
winter in England, where it always strikes me as cruel 
and unlike nature to rob them of their clothing, just when 
they seem to need it most. 

We are to halt here a day or two, not only to give 
ourselves, but our poor attendants rest, and looking in the 
direction of the camp, I see men in strange attire. They 
are the retinue of our Soubah, whose advent we hope is 
now not far distant. One of them coming up to me, 
and 'kowtowing' his very best (making a salaam), tells 



LITTLE GO BOON. 315 



me he will be here to-morrow, and we look forward to his 
arrival, as to some perfectly new sensation. 

F and C now join me, and we very soon 

observe these men — our own assisting — hauling- along 
three heavy slabs of 'gneiss,' like elongated mile-stones, 
which puzzle us not a little ; but this Soubah is altogether 
such a mysterious personage, that conjecture is useless. 

After breakfast, C goes with his rifle in search of 

moonals into the forest, whence a report reaches us at 
frequent intervals, echoed from one mountain to another, 
till the air seems vibrating with muffled guns. 

We are here joined by a nephew of Tendook, named 
Goboon, an interesting lad with a soft girlish face, and fea- 
tures of a very refined type. Over his shoulders his 
liair hangs in long flowing curls ; but, in spite of this, he 
possesses a noble and manly bearing, and carries his head 
magnificently. He wears a turban of Lepcha cloth, 
striped with blue and buff, a short full tunic of scarlet 
cloth, so made as to leave the neck and chest bare, and 
a kirtle confined at the waist by a belt, from which hangs 
the usual Lepcha ' ban,' encased in a handsome silver 
scabbard. Every movement of his frame is full of natural 
grace and dignity, and he reminds me forcibly of the 
striplings one reads of in the Bible. I observe that, 
although he mingles with the rest, and addresses them 
quite familiarly, they one and all show him every token 
of respect ; and it is easy, even among these semi-barba- 
rians, to see who are of gentle birth. 



3i6 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

Catoo, who has been thus far before, now comes to 
inform me that a lovely view of Mount Everest is to be ob- 
tained some two hundred feet above, with — as far as I can 
understand him — a lake, or tarn, in the foreground. Ac- 
cordingly, collecting my sketching materials together, I 
make ready for the climb. 

All my dandy-bearers were in attendance ; but as 

F and Tendook offered to accompany me, I decided, 

with their help and that of my alpenstock, to walk. 

* You may all return to your camp,' I said, addressing 
them, thinking they would be only too glad to have their 
services dispensed with. 

' Very good, Mem sahib,' broke in Hatti, patronisingly, 
evidently regarding himself as an exception — he always 
seemed to t'-^ie a sort of proprietary interest in me — ' you 
can walk with me, and the sahib, and Tendook. We 
don't want these^ looking round contemptuously on about 
a dozen others. ' We don't want you,' he added, waving 
his hand majestically; ' you may go! 

' What ! ' exclaimed Nautch- wallah, in a peevish and 
deeply injured tone, separating himself from the group. 
* Who are you to say / am not to go with the Mem 
sahib ? You are all very well to carry her ; but who's to 
run down the ' khud ' after her easel, I should like to 
know, if the wind blows it away, as it did the other day } ' 
casting a glance first at Hatti's massive unwieldy figure, 
and then at the crowd for approbation. ' You can't run, 
you! ha ! ha ! ' 



DISPUTED RIGJI'J'S. 317 



' Well then,' I said, to end the matter, for I thoiio^ht 
they were coming- to blows, ' you can both come with me 
if you like.' 

' And if I don't go too, Mem sahib,' said the little 
Lepcha named Joogoo, ' who is there to tell you the 
names of the mountains and the plants ? ' 

' / shall carry her taszuir ke chiz (sketching things),' 
exclaimed another, in a dogged determined tone. 

' And chota Rags, Mem sahib, cliota Rags,' I heard a 
small plaintive voice saying behind me. 

Turning round I saw such a disappointed, forsaken 
look in the little man, that I replied, ' Of course, chota 
(little) Rags,' as they all call him now, ' of course you must 
come ; how could I do without you ? run and get your 
flute, and you can play whilst I paint;' a"d seeing the 
eager faces of the others, all anxious to be thought worthy 
to be of help, I said, ' There, you may all come if you 
wish it.' 

In an instant the whole rabble were off, with expres- 
sions of glee, laughing, shouting, and scrambling up be- 
fore me, hand linked in hand, like so many children. 

Catoo's taswir, however, turned out to be rather a 
failure ; Mount Everest obstinately refused to show 
himself. But extending our ramble we reached the verge 
of a precipice, below which yawned a frightful gulf. It 
would have been quite impossible to stand and look down 
into it ; but, throwing ourselves on the ground, we crawled 
along to its edge, and gazed into the almost fathomless 



3i8 THE INDIAN A IPS. 



abyss beneath ; after which Catoo, walking by my side, 
related a sad story connected with this spot. Some years 
ago a Nepaulese lad fell over, but was caught by a ledge 
of projecting rock. His cries reached a shepherd who 
was tending his flocks some little distance off Trying 
to descend to his rescue, the brave fellow was dashed to 
pieces, whilst the lad managed to scramble up alone, and 
was saved. 

This is one of those problems that puzzle us sorely 
in this world of ours : how He, who is said to number 
the very hairs of our head, and without whose ken not 
a sparrow falls to the ground, should yet permit such 
a fate to overtake one, whose true heroism seems the 
rather to merit great reward. Yet instances, of the 
kind are met with each day we live — how one, minis- 
tering to the sick in a contagious disease, falls a victim 
to it himself, although the patient lives ; whilst another, 
plunging into the cold wave to rescue a drowning man, 
is frequently lost, although he for whose succour he 
risked his life will probably reach shore in safety. 

But our understanding is finite, and ' our thoughts 
not as His thoughts.' It is one of those mysteries that 
death alone can solve ; yet it may be that such noble 
deeds have their immediate reward, in a very glorious 
awakening in another state of being. For although we, 
in our ignorance of the future, look upon the continuance 
of our lives here, with all their toils and sorrows, as 
a thing so greatly to be desired, we know not, except in 



A SUNBOW. 319 



the mere abstract, how infinitely better that other h'fe will 
be that awaits us, or how, if we did know, we might 
regard the swift arrow of death, that ushers us within its 
portals, as a thing to be coveted and yearned for, with an 
impatience and ardent longing beyond all else. The 
All-good and kind may, in taking them at once from this 
world, where so much is evil, reward such Hectors by 
introducing them into instant and amazing happiness. It 
is thus alone, believing firmly as I do in an overruling 
Providence ever about our path, that I can in my own 
poor mind reconcile that which otherwise would seem so 
strange and irreconcilable. 

An hour or two later in the day, F and I were 

fortunate enough to see one of those phenomena which 
are not unfrequently observed in these Alpine heights, 
and which went far to explain the colossal apparition 
which concluded my midnight adventure. Standing on 
the verge of the mountain, and looking down into the 
valley I have before spoken of, I found myself suddenly 
enveloped in a soft mist, in the centre of which my 
own figure, greatly exaggerated, was darkly shadowed. 
The whole thing appeared so suddenly, that I was at 
first quite startled : a giant phantom seemed again to 
have arisen before me. As I moved, it moved ; I walked 
along a few paces, and saw it following me ; I raised my 
hand, and the spectre raised its hand also ; and then it 

flashed across my mind that I was in a sunbow. F 

was not far off", and, summoning him, he made another 



320 



2'HE INDIAN ALPS. 



giant spectre beside me. Around our shadows were 
zones of rainbow light ; but even as we watched it, it all 
gradually faded away with the mist, and the valley at our 
feet became as radiant as before. 

After this, sitting at my tent door, I sketched the 
natives as they passed to and fro. Having observed 
my occupation, Tendook at length presented himself in 
the most alarming and overpowering ' get up ' it is 




i/f^^ '.-,.,l'^."..##v.. 



possible to imagine — amber satin, covered with a pattern 
of green dragons, and lined with crimson silk brocade, his 
portly frame adorned with as much jewellery as he could 
conveniently carry — and asked me to take his likeness. He 
of course looks infinitely better in his every-day garb ; but 
not liking to wound his mind by telling him so, for the effect 



rilR POWER OF ASSOCIATION. 321 

must have been produced by no ordinary pains, I accede 
to his request. 

We must all have felt how strongly the power of 
association acts occasionally in recalling memories of the 
past : it may be of things forgotten long ago, but still lying 
hidden within the secret chambers of the brain. We 
all know how simple a thing will do it — the scent of a 
flower, the ripple of the sea, the murmur of the wind, a 
single note of music, a look even — and what a magic spell 
such association often weaves, in not only recalling events, 
but thoughts, feelings, and even momentary sensations. 
It has been related by one who well knew the marvellous 
power of this association, that once upon a time a poor 
Scotch artist, having left his native hills, came to the busy 
metropolis to seek for employment. He had doubtless 
fancied, like Dick Whittington, that its streets were 
paved with gold, or had probably heard that England 
was called by the Phoenicians ' Tin Island,' However 
that may be, he found but small encouragement in his art, 
and wandering, disappointed and sad, from street to street 
with almost empty pockets, he came suddenly upon 
a Highlander playing the familiar bagpipes. Those 
wild and discordant strains called up visions of his native 
mountains ; and as he listened, the tears chasing each 
other down his cheeks, he thrust his hand into his pocket, 
and, as he himself declared afterwards, ' I could na help 
it, I just gi'ed him my last halfcrown.' 

So, whilst taking Tendook's portrait, I keep think- 

T T 



322 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



ing of a sweet summer day, just before leaving England 
for India, and the scent of the honeysuckle and meadow- 
sweet in the hedgerows comes wafted towards me across 
the time waves of four long years. 

I was sitting under a row of elms, sketching a broken- 
down and superannuated waggon, which for lack of room 
elsewhere had been cast aside on a road-side bank. Full 
of poetry was this time-worn waggon, its rickety wheels 
covered with marl, telling of years of rumblings to and 




fro, in shady lanes, and goings with the team to water in 
green pools, and of lingerings outside the ' Wheatsheaf,' 
whilst Hodge went in to have his mid-day ' glass.' As I 
thus sketched, a farmer came up on his homeward way, 
and after standing and looking at me with much amaze- 
ment over a stile, exclaimed : 



SKETCHING THE NATIVES. 323 

* You beant niver goin' to put that there old ran- 
shakHn in yer pictur, ma'am. Law!' added he, apolo- 
getically, 'if I'd know'd that, I'd 'a had 'en painted and 
tackled up a bit ; or if you wanted a waggon, or cart, or 
the likes o' that to draft, why, bless'ee, I got a bran new 
^un in that shed yander.' The farmer comprehended as 
little as old Tendook, who arrayed himself thus in gor- 
geous apparel, that the poetry and pictorial beauty of 
things lie chiefly in their being time-worn and dilapidated. 

The sketch being finished to his entire satisfaction — 
he is in ecstasies over the bright gold ornaments round 
his neck — Catoo stands before me with a low salaam, and 
begs that I will ' write ' his taswir also. Natives are 
all wonderfully fond of having their likenesses taken, and 
he forms a much more pleasing subject certainly — a 
good-looking Lepcha, about five-and-tw^enty, in his ordi- 
nary costume, his hair plaited in one long tail, which is 
the distinguishing mark between the sexes amongst this 
tribe, the men plaiting it in one tail, the women in two. 

After this little Rags presents himself, a meek peti- 
tioner for the same favour ; but tired by this time, I ex- 
amine his flute instead, promising to gratify him at some 
future period. It is merely a small piece of bamboo 
cane, an inch in diameter, in which five or six holes have 
been burnt — a slight instrument, truly, to emit sounds so 
sweet and Arcadian. 

Then all go their way, and how pleasant it is to sit 
alone, under a sky of cloudless azure, whilst vision after 



324 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

vision comes floating through the brain, not obtrusively, 
but, hke slow-paced shadows, vague and strange and only 
half real, or as belonging to some previous existence. 
Have we not all felt something like this also when reclining 
in the sunshine on a summer day, too indolent to think 
in earnest, or concern ourselves with life's complications, 
and when even the billows on its ocean seem breaking 
calmly on quiet sunlit shores ? At such moments — oases 
in the desert of our lives — a tranquil feeling steals over 
us, and we hardly seem to be living in a real world of 
work and action, but floating somewhere beyond it. 
Then are our very sorrows forgotten, those spectres 
which follow our footsteps, and cast dark spots upon 
our sunshine ; forgotten, that is, as far as the incidents 
themselves are concerned, but not so, surely, in their 
influence on our lives. For it is sorrow that often 
awakens the very divinest part of our being, which other- 
wise might never have started into life, nor would Nature, 
which with many is but a dead language, appeal to us so 
eloquently as she does. I cannot believe in one who has 
known nought but happiness — one who has never 
struggled in those unseen crises of the heart, as at one 
period or other of their lives all must who have truly 
lived — holding fellowship with either storm or sunshine. 

While I thus idly linger, as in a pleasant trance, the 
peaceful day passes into evening. Slanting shadows 
lengthen athwart the mountain, till the valley is wrapped 
in shade. I watch the blue line creep slowly along it, until, 



extending upwards, it gathers everything far and near in 
one sombre tint of grey. Mists rise and shutout distant 
objects one by one, and the air grows chill. The firing 

of C 's gun ceases, the echoes are hushed ; he must 

be returning with his spoils. F , too, appears, a little 

black speck in the distance, as he comes scrambling down 
the mountain, whither he had gone on an exploring ex- 
pedition. The coolies light their fires, and smoke ascends 
from a dozen nooks and corners. Wood crackles, lights 
gleam, shadowy figures flit here and there, whilst the 
subdued hum of voices — for they are seldom boisterous 
at this hour — and a plaintive, wailing air, played by 
' Little Rags,' who, as usual, is telling out his love, as he 
sits apart on a moss and lichen-covered rock, sound 
wondrously peaceful and dreamy. 



326 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE SOUBAH OF MONGMOO. 

We had pictured to our imagination something so sphinx- 
like and out of the ordinary way in the Soubah, that 
great was our surprise when, early this morning, on hear- 
ing of his arrival, and leaving our tents to receive 
him, we found one of the p7^ettiest and most benevolent 
old men possible, but so very old and patriarchal- 
looking that he might have been Noah, or one of 
those who flourished about the time of the Flood, if, in- 
deed, he were not altogether pre- Adamite. I should 
say, speaking advisedly, as one who would not libel him, 
that he had not washed for centuries at least. This 
fact alone, however, adds greatly to his pictorial appear- 
ance, for the rich and mellow colouring of his skin, by 
nature intended to be fair, is perfectly charming, artisti- 
cally considered, and he is the exact personification of 
one of Rembrandt's glorious pictures, mellowed by time ; 
and were one told that he had been sittino- and smok- 
ing himself over the fire for a thousand years, one would 
scarcely feel surprised. 

The expression of his face is extremely pleasing. He 



THE SOUBAH AT LAST. 327 

has to an unusual extent the laughing Lepcha eye, which 
makes him look as though he were always mentally en- 
joying a bit of sportive raillery, to which he never gives 
vent in words, or as if, having discovered the vanity of 
all things mundane, he regards us with pitying curiosity, 
wondering what we had come thus far to see, and revelling 
in the idea that we, too, should one day waken up to the 
fact that all things living are vanity. 

His hair, which is perfectly white, hangs in long, loose 
masses over his shoulders, whilst his costume — a robe of 
garnet-coloured cloth — extends to his feet, which are 
encased in mocassins of divers colours. He also wears 
a large broad-brimmed hat of finely plaited grass, bound 
round the edge with the fur of the ' cat-bear ' — a small 
animal inhabiting the higher elevations, the fur of which 
resembles the finest sable — and from the capacious pouch, 
formed by the loose folds of his robe above the girdle, he 
produces eggs and a bottle of wild honey, and places them 

at C ^"s feet. But even then he appeared to have any 

amount of small personal luggage concealed within ; and 
I may as well say here, that, before leaving, I saw him at 
different times, when necessity called for them, produce 
from his bosom a tinder-box, a brick of Thibet tea, a 
brass pipe, his chop-sticks, and tweezers. 

He is a man of no mean stature, and with his arms 
folded over his breast, or lying calmly by his side — for 
he is sparing of both words and gesture, as one who 
has grown too wise for speech — he is a very wooden- 



328 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

figured man, and carries me back to the shadowy days of 
childhood, when on Sunday afternoons, all other toys, 
puzzles, and such-like wicked week-day amusements having 
been put beyond my reach, Noah's Ark was brought forth 
as a religious Sunday treat, together with a Scripture 
picture-book, wherein Daniel in a den of lions ramp- 
ant seemed always the most prominent. I can remem- 
ber now, as if it were but yesterday, how that, by a per- 
version of facts which clings to me still — showing the 
omnipotence of early teaching, pictorial or otherwise — 
Daniel was represented as an old bald-headed man, in 
a blue dressing-gown, while a very young king indeed, 
surmounted by a coronet of yellow and red, was looking 
through a grating to see how he was getting on. This, 
together with a picture representing a group of open- 
mouthed alligators on the banks of the Nile, generally 
sent me to my little bed with a whole Tattersall's of in- 
cipient nightmares. 

Noah's Ark in those days was the very load-star of 
my existence, and Sunday, I am obliged truthfully to con- 
fess, has never been quite the same happy day, since — 
those golden gates past — it was put away with other child- 
ish things. As I look at this gentle old man it is like a 
dream revived, for my Ark family were clad in garnet- 
colour too, and also wore broad- brimmed, low-crowned 
hats, the only difference seeming to me to exist in the 
fact, that the Soubah was endowed with feet and legs, 
whereas they rested upon the basis of their habiliments 



only. I can remember, too, at that time when thought 
began to dawn out of the chaos of mere sensation, that I 
regarded the former appendages as post-diluvian, adopted 
by reason of the general sloppiness of nature, after the 
subsiding of the waters, which rendered a kind of stilts 
necessary to get about the world in, when they left the 
ark. Favourite of all the family was Shem, on account 
of a pleasing docility of expression, of which the Soubah 
forcibly reminds me. 

It is not easy to realise that this delightful old 
Philistine, the Soubah, is a great personage amongst his 
own people, having Sepoys at 
his command, and a numerous 
retinue ; but so it is, and as he 
loiters silently about the camp, 
the only interest and curiosity 
of which he seems capable, are 
evidently vested in me. He had 
never, as he subsequently in- ^ 

formed F , seen an English- " 

woman before in Sikkim. -^ 

After having communicated 

our difficulties to him, C 

takes out Major Sherwill's map, and consults him about 
the route we are to follow ; and I am glad to say he 
has not only set our fears at rest with regard to our 
projected journey along the crest of the Singaleelah 
Range, but has sketched a programme for us, which 




u u 



sounds very encouraging. He also promises one of his 
own men as Guide. 

According to an arrangement made between C 

and the Kajee of Yangting, we were to have found men 
awaiting us here with suppHes of rice ; but as they have not 

come, C sent a messenger to him this morning, his 

dwelHng being two days' march down the valley, to 
remind him of his promise, for the people of our camp are 
complaining sorely of the shortness of provisions, and we 
do not well see how we can pursue our journey unless 
food reach us. Should it not do so speedily, it will be 
more than provoking. 

We spend the mornmg in drying and pressing the 
specimens of moss and lichen which we gathered on 
each day's march in coming hither, and are all busily 
occupied in various ways, when our attention is directed 
to a green knoll above our encampment, where a crowd 
of persons seems to have collected. Curiosity prompting 
us to join it, we find the Soubah and a number of his 
followers in the process of erecting the three slabs I have 
before mentioned, on the margin of a tarn, situated in a 
basin or hollow of the mountain. This tarn, which is 
hidden until approached quite closely, we had not even 
imagined to exist. 

We soon learn that these slabs are intended to re- 
present C , F , and myself, and are to comme- 
morate the interesting fact of our having encamped on this 
mountain. The Lepchas regard these tarns as sacred, 



OUR CENOTAPJIS. 



331 



and there may be a deeper significance than we ourselves 
were aware of, in these simple people erecting memorials 
of our advent, by its still waters, where they look like 
Druidical remains. When niofht at last wore on, it made 
me feel quite miserable to think they were so lonely. 

The large one in the centre represents C , as 

becomes the greater dignity of his social position ; that to 

the right F , and the little fat stumpy one looking like 

an excrescence, myself, which I feel slightly inclined to 




resent, being, I beg to say, neither fat nor stumpy ; but 
then In this country a woman is nothing socially, a ' koosh 
nael which being interpreted means nothing} 

I once knew a lady in the plains who, having called 
at the house of a friend to enquire after the health of a 
mother and her new-born babe, and on prolonging her 

1 Spelt kuchh na, but pronounced as above. 



332 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

enquiries, begged to be informed of the sex of the little 
stranger, was gravely answered by the native servant, 
' koosh nae, mem sahib,' it happening to be a girl. 
Should you unfortunately be one of the weaker sex, and 
ask permission to see the interior of one of their temples 
or mosques, you will be told, with more candour than 
politeness, that ' neither dogs nor women are allowed to 
enter ! ' 

I am by no means one of those strong-minded females 
who advocate what is mis-called * woman's rights ; ' on 
the contrary, I believe women have tenderer, sweeter, 
purer, if not nobler, rights than such advocates wot of 
— rights best suited to the gentler nature of her sex, and 
hidden deep in the sweet and gentle life of home ; but 
there are limits to the depreciation of womankind in the 
social scale, and in behalf of my Oriental sisters I object 
to the above order of ideas. 

There is, however, a little Eden even in this hemi- 
sphere, all amongst the Kasia Hills in Eastern Bengal — a 
happy land where women command the men and ' rule 
over them ; ' where the men are domestic drudges and 
' keepers at home,' looking after the children ; — where 
property legally and by custom descends through women ; 
— where the boys are ^ koosh naes' and the girls, for once, 
are everything, and have it all their own way ! 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

CONJUGAL DIFFERENCES. 

Having determined upon adhering to our original in- 
tention of travelling over the Singaleelah Range, 
we have been occupied all the morning in taking 
out the warm clothing we have hitherto kept in re 
serve for the greater heights, mine being either thickly- 
wadded or lined with fur, thus obviating the necessity 
of cumbering myself with a number of wraps. We 
have also packed up all the heavy baggage, such 
as camp bedsteads, and tent furniture of every kind 
that we can absolutely dispense with, as it is impossible 
for the coolies to carry any but light loads over the 
steep and rugged mountain passes which we shall hence- 
forth have to traverse. We therefore purpose sending 
fourteen men, heavily laden, together with our worse than 
useless ponies, to Pemionchi, to await our arrival there. 
As they will be descending the whole way, each man 
is to carry a double load, and we are not sorry to feel 
that we shall have fewer in camp to feed. In these barren 
and inhospitable regions, in case of continued scarcity. 
We also instituted a grand search for an aneroid ther- 



mometer, and two pairs of dark -blue spectacles which were 

packed together in a case by themselves, F , as an old 

Alpine traveller, knowing the great importance of the 
latter in avoiding snow-blindness ; but our search being 
fruitless, we are forced to the unwilling conclusion that 
they must all have been left behind. 

On opening one of my portmanteaus, however, which 
I had had no occasion to do until now, I found concealed 
amongst the folds of a dress the little silver amulet, con- 
taining charms, which Lattoo was so desirous I should 
bring with me the evening I last saw her. The poor 
girl, strong in her belief in its efficacy, and evidently 
determining I should not go without it, must have placed 
it there without my knowledge. The sight of it almost 
brought tears to my eyes, for I had been thinking much 
of her lately, feeling intuitively that all wa§ not well, and 
longing for tidings. 

We have again been envelope'd since the morning in 
such impenetrable fog that we cannot see six yards before 
us, and the dishevelled world seems once more to have 
surrendered itself hopelessly to chill mists, which give 
one an incipient feeling of rheumatism even to behold ; 
and tumbling over tent-pegs has of course been once more 
the great diversion of the day. Should it not clear tOr 
morrow, we shall have to hold on here, as it would 
be utter madness to ascend these precipitous heights 
in such weather. As we sit within our tents watching 
the mist scudding by, we only wish we could ' indent' on 



OUR SHIKAREE. 335 



the Rajah of Sikkim for a salvo of artillery, to bring 
down the rain and clear the sky. 

The ' shikaree ' has just brought in some game which 
he shot early this morning before the fog came on, and 
which we are to have cooked for dinner. Game in the 
Hills, if eaten soon after it is shot, is always tender ; but 
if kept till the following day, becomes hard, and then 
requires hanging for a much longer period, so that we 
generally ' kill and eat.' We brought this man with us 
ostensibly to shoot moonals, the most magnificent bird 
it is possible to conceive, the size of a small turkey. 
Although to be found in numbers at this elevation, they 
fetch at Darjeeling the high price of 32 rupees (3/. 46-.), 
on account of their plumage, and we are sorely puzzled to 
know why he can find none of them, although he often 
bags the hen moonal. He is always saying ' We shall 
meet with them to-morrow,' but the ' to-morrow ' never 
comes ; and I cannot help stating here, although I may 
seem guilty of an anachronism, that not one does he bring 
down for us during the whole march, but that a few days 
after our return to Darjeeling, they are to be bought by the 
dozen. Of course the inference is plain, but I am happy 
to say that this man is not a Lepcha. Lepchas would 
be incapable of such treachery. 

F is making an ornithological collection, and, with 

this exception, has obtained birds to be met with at 
every elevation. Surrounded by his bottles of arsenical 
solution and corrosive sublimate, like some alchemist. 



336 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

he has been squatting before the fire all the day, busily 
occupied in preserving them ; and in various ways we all 
try to kill time till dinner is ready, which, whatever be the 
weather, rises and sets like the moon or stars, or some other 
equally unalterable law of nature. Happily the cook has 
been able to resume his duties, the fever, from which he 
was suffering, having yielded to large doses of quinine. 

As rice is so scarce, our kind host gave a sheep to 
the camp before retiring for the night — a great treat in 
the estimation of the Lepchas and Bhootias, who will 
cat any kind of meat. Gathering together like eagles 
round a carcase, they did honour to the occasion by 
imbibing deep potations of ' murwa,' an intoxicating drink 
made from the fermented seed of millet, of which they 
partake very freely at their carousals. During the night 
watches some consequently grew very merry and musical, 
their minstrelsy, however, being none the more melodious 
from the fact of its being Bacchanalian, whilst others 
engaged in small feuds, which occasionally seemed to 
result in blows. At last, matters became so serious that 

F went out to try to quell the uproar; but they 

were too far gone to heed remonstrance, and his efforts 
proving ineffectual in restoring tranquillity, sleep for us 
was of course out of the question. 

Towards niorning I was awakened by the most 
dismal wailing, close to the ' kernaughts ' of our tent. 
At first I took no notice of it ; till the sighs and 
groans not only continuing, but growing more desperate 



FANCHYNG IN TROUBLE. 337 



each moment, I felt sure it was some poor wretch in 
trouble come to seek redress from the Sahib logiie. 
Hastily dressing, I went out, fully expecting to see 
Tatters or Pugla-wallah, as they call him, the poor half- 
witted man, whom so many seem to oppress. I was 
not a little surprised, therefore, when, instead of Pugla- 
wallah, I saw Fanchyng looking like a wounded fawn, 
and sitting in a most wobegone attitude on the frozen 
ground, dissolved in tears, and her clothes wet with dew, 
a very moist specimen of humanity altogether. There 
was quite sufficient light to enable me to see further 
that her white sleeves and jacket bore marks of vio- 
lence, whilst her hair, usually so neatly plaited, hung in 
tangled masses over her face. 

I guessed at once that there had been some misunder- 
standing between her husband and herself, which generally 
ends in bruises, if not in still more serious consequences ; 
for these stalwart dwellers of the mountains — the Bhootias 
— think nothing of beating their wives severely on the 
smallest provocation. One would have thought that 
in this simple pastoral life there was no room for con- 
tention of any sort, but that, alas ! is only a dream of 
Arcadia. Human nature Is identical, wherever one finds 
it ; and her woman's instinct had, I fancy, prompted 
her to come to me for sympathy, as, according to her 
notion, I was one of the ' ill-used sex.' 

I tried hard to elicit the reason of her distress, but 
could at first get no satisfactory account of what had 

X X 



338 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

happened, violent sobs being the only answer ; but after a 
long process of extraction, vigorously sustained on my 
part, amidst increased wailings and more copious tear- 
shedding on hers, I succeeded in making her confess at 
length, that Nimboo, availing himself of his authority as 
a husband, had administered a more than ordinarily 
severe dose of correction, which, from her downcast look 
and manner of telling, I could see had not been wholly un- 
merited. On my intimating this, she told me I was right, 
and from gesture, and a word or two helping me here 
and there, I was able in some way to connect her story. 

It would seem that whilst sitting over their fire, 
devouring the sheep last night, elated no doubt by the 
effects of ' murwa,' Nautch- wallah, who was seated beside 
her, had not only picked out the tit-bits of the animal 
from his own platter, and put them into her mouth with 
his fino^ers— a mark of sio-nal favour with all Orientals — 
but had subsequently, in true English fashion, and in 

imitation of F , who, truth to tell, is occasionally 

guilty of a similar indiscretion with the chronicler of these 
pages, put his arm round her waist. These little attentions 
she did not repel as Nimboo expected she would have 
done. Hence the castigation, and hence these tears ! 

Ten o'clock a.m. — The Soubah, who has all along 
been the guest of Tendook, has just come to take leave, 
and no supplies of food having yet been sent into camp 
by the Kajee of Yangting, he has obtained for us two 
maunds (i6olbs.) of rice and twenty-two seers (52 lbs.) of 



bhoota from Mongmoo, which we trust will keep the wolf 
from the door till help come ; but it is a mere nothing- when 
one considers that each man consumes, or ought to con- 
sume, at least two pounds per diem. With it, however, 
the Soubah believes we may safely pursue our journey, 
added to the full expectation of the promised supplies 

overtaking us, in charge of the messenger whom C 

sent to the Kajee yesterday. 

We thank him for all his courtesy and kindness to us 
and our people, and then bid him farewell. The Soubah, 
expressing his deep regret that, being an old man, he is 
unable to accompany us himself, introduces the person 
whom we are to take with us as guide, assuring us he 
is thoroughly acquainted with the route, being a Ne- 
paulese herdsman, who leads his 
kine along the Singaleelah Range 
into Sikkim for pasture regularly 
every year during the summer 
months. 

Notwithstandinof his humble 
calling, he wears a scarlet tunic 
embroidered with gold and black, 
and is unquestionably a fine, 
manly, and intelligent-looking 
fellow. But I note that he has a 
treacherous eye, in spite of his 
frank and manly bearing ; and confess to having taken an 
intuitive and instantaneous dislike to him. 




340 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

'MRS. SYNTAX IN SEARCH OF THE PICTURESQUE.' 

We have been detained at Mount Singaleelah three 
days, not only waiting for food, but hoping for a change 
of weather, which has been no less foggy and impracti- 
cable here than when we were encamped on Mount 
Tongloo. But to-day being a great improvement upon 
yesterday, although there is still a litde mist hanging about 
the higher ridges, we intend to make a brilliant effort, 
and start as soon as tents can be struck. 

More rice and bhoota have also reached camp during 
the night, sent by our kind old friend the Soubah, the 
quantity being sufficient to last several days. Despatch- 
ing another messenger to that tiresome and incorrigible 
Kajee, to inform him that we shall be marching along 
the Singaleelah Range, and urging him to send supplies 
after us without delay, we have every hope— as we make 
short marches— that they will overtake us before the 
present stock is exhausted. 

The first messenger whom C despatched, however, 

returned this morning, with the assurance from the Kajee 
himself — who appears to know our plans better than we 
do ourselves — that we mtist pass through the Rajah of 



OBDURACY OF THE KAJEE OF Y A NOTING. 341 



Sikkim's territory, and that we should find the necessary 

stores awaiting our arrival at Yangting. But this, F 

and I cannot help fearing, is a mere excuse, the Kajee 
having been told positively to send them here. Less 
sanguine than our host, we begin to suspect some little 
treachery ; but he assures us that were the Kajee to play 
us false, or show us any incivility, it might cost him too 
dear, and that he has too lively a recollection of the retri- 
butive justice of the British Government to venture upon 
it. We can only hope, therefore, that he may be brought 
to reason by this second messenger ; but it is anything but 
consoling to remember that in 1849 this same man, then 
Soubah of Singtam, despitefully illtreated Drs. Hooker 
and Campbell, made prisoners of them and their people, 
kept them confined in a close cell, and nearly starved 
them. Nor was it till the warlike attitude of our Govern- 
ment alarmed the Rajah, and troops were sent to procure 
their release, that the Kajee ceased hostilities, and gave 
freedom to the captives. The Rajah — an amiable man 
himself — is but a tool in the hands of his ministers, who 
do pretty much as they like, not only with him but with 
his dominions also, He was not allowed to go unpunished, 
however, being made responsible for the conduct of his 
subordinates. The loss of part of his territory was the 
consequence, while the annual compensation of 300/. 
per annum granted him on his cession of Darjeeling, men- 
tioned in an earlier chapter, was henceforth withdrawn. 
Whilst busy in our several ways preparing for the 



342 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

march, Nimboo comes to ask permission to join the party 
who are gone on to Pemionchi, urging the impossibility 
of his wife's undertaking such a journey as that which 
we had arranged for ourselves. But this proposition is 
at once indignantly rejected. He is one of the strongest 

and most trusty of my dandy-bearers, and F tells 

him at once that he cannot be spared, adding that as he 
did not ask leave to bring Fanchyng, he must take the 
consequences, at the same time magnanimously suggest- 
ing that she should be sent under escort of two chuprasees 
to Pemionchi. On seeing Nimboo hesitate at this pro- 
posal, F hints that the objectionable Nautch-wallah 

will be left behind with tts ; but even this fails to satisfy 
him. In common with his race, he possesses, I fancy, 
a general and undefinable jealousy, for on hearing from 
one of the men standing by that he would not leave her 

behind at Darjeeling, C enquired of whom he was 

jealous. ' Eh ! ' he exclaimed, shrugging his shoulders 
significantly, ' who can tell ? ' 

We are all the more resolved upon being firm, be- 
lieving fully that he is only making his wife's incapacity 
an excuse for obtaining a little holiday and spree at our 
expense amongst his own people, some of whom, Fan- 
chyng previously informed me, lived within two days' 
march of Pemionchi. We also know full well that these 
Hill women are often as strong as men, frequently carry- 
ing loads weighing 6 maunds (520 lbs.), and that where 
Nimboo can go, she can go also. 



IMPENDING MYSTERIES. 



343 



There has been much discussion as to the manner 
in which I am to be carried up the mountain — an ahiiost 
perpendicular precipice of 600 feet, — which must be scaled 
before the crest of this range can again be reached, and the 
gradient of which is far too steep for a dandy. I can see 
the gestures of Catoo as he asserts the impossibility of my 
being carried at all, whilst Tendook — who is always called 
in to decide these knotty points — seems equally enthusi- 
astic as to the impossibility of my ascending it on hands 
and knees. I can understand nothing that they say, for 
they are talking Lepcha, but watch their movements 
eagerly, feeling intuitively 
that, In some way or other, -^ 
I am the subject of them. 
Presently I see Tendook 
hurrying off as fast as his 
fat legs will carry him, his 
pigtail flying out at least 
a yard behind, trying to 
overtake the coolie laden with the camp chairs, who Is 
just beginning the ascent. Balancing myself upon a tent- 
peg, I make a little sketch of him on the spot, and 
soon see him returning with the coolie. 

The meaning of this I at once divine. In some ex- 
traordinary manner — a profound mystery yet — I am to 
be carried in a chair. Two coolies are next seen hurry- 
ing off with their 'bans,' to cut bamboo canes, and in half 
an hour's time a little shelf is constructed, and firmly 




fastened to the lowest part to rest the feet upon. Watching 
these impending mysteries with the keenest interest, I see 
the chair finally strapped to a'kursing,' — a bamboo frame 
which these mountaineers invariably use for carrying their 
loads, whatever these may be, furnished with a circular 
strap of plaited cane on either side, through which 
the arms are placed, whilst a third strap passes over the 
forehead ; so that, although the load is carried on the 
back, it will be seen that the greatest weight is sustained 
by the head. 

I next observe the muscular form of Hatti coming 
to the fore, and in an instant comprehend that I am to 

be carried on this giant's 
back. It must not be 
supposed, however, that 

F and C are not 

here to mve their sane- 
tion to these proceed 
ings. On the contrary, 

C mischievously 

threatens to make a 
sketch of me as soon as 
I am fairly impaled, and 
call it ' Mrs. Syntax in 
Search of the Pictu- 
resque.' At length Ten- 
dook announces that all is ready ; I take my seat with 
as grave a countenance as I can assume, am strongly 




A NEW MODE OF LOCOMOTION. 345 

fastened to the chair Hke a bundle of merchandise, a 
strap being made to encircle the waist ; Hatti then seats 
himself on the ground dos-d-dos, puts his arms through 
the kursing-straps, rises with Tendook's and Catoo's 
assistance, for the first pull is the worst, and we are 

under weigh. As I am borne aloft, C and F , 

taking off their hats, shout, ' En r-r-r-route ! ' and with the 
whole staff of dandy-wallahs arranged before and behind 
me In case of accident, we proceed in solemn procession, 
and I soon feel, by the very uncomfortable motion, that 
we have begun the ascent. 

Then upwards we crawl by jutting rock, through briar 
and bramble ; Hatti, in spite of his great strength, groan- 
ing and snorting like a hippopotamus. I had just bidden 
him stop for an instant's rest, when our progress was 
forcibly checked by one of the tent-laden coolies in ad- 
vance, who was loudly calling for help, his load having 
got jammed between two pieces of rock. As soon as he 
was extricated, by the united efforts of three men, we 
resume our climb, and reach the summit in safety. 

Once let loose, I shake myself like some wild animal,- 
feeling very thankful again to be on terra Jirma. How 
appalling it is to look down the deadly precipice whence 
we had come, and watch the remainder of the coolies 
toiling up the ascent, sometimes on all fours, at others 
catching hold of the tough branches of rhododendron. 
Then the gentlemen come scrambling up like Alpine 
chamois, only far less nimbly, and obliged frequently to 

Y Y 



avail themselves of the help of those of our people who 
happen to be within their reach. 

On looking upwards from our encampment below, we 
imagined that this summit once gained, we should find 
ourselves at the highest point ; but so deceptive are 
mountains, as all know who have travelled amongst 
them, that we still see ridge upon ridge towering above us, 

stately and shattered undu- 
lations of gneiss, whilst 
everywhere around us lie 
masses of bold and barren 
rock. To the west are the 
nearer mountains of Nepaul ; 
but looking north, the eye 
wanders over the mighty 
^^/. ' billows of the Singaleelah 
!;;.^^:^, Range, bristling with pines. 



Having given ourselves 
and our people rest, and as- 
certained that none are left 
behind, we journey on again, 
hoping to reach our next 
camping-place, the summit 
of a lofty mountain, before nightfall. It is impossible to 
describe the steepness of the climb during a great portion 
of the day's march, my dandy often being in an almost 
perpendicular position. Full many a time it gets fixed 
between fragments of fallen rock, as my bearers carry me 




along, the stalwart Bhootias assisting me to alight with 
a gentleness as if they thought I must break, or in some 
way or other fall to pieces. 

We have now left rhododendrons behind, and a 
little aromatic species takes their place, growing about 
twelve inches from the ground, its brown and dry leaves 
emitting a delicious perfume as we tread them under foot. 
The scarlet barberry, too, is seen everywhere, and sadly 
impedes our progress, rendering our climb more laborious 
than it would otherwise have been, whilst its tiny thorns 
prove a very weariness to the flesh. Nor is it easy at 
all times to follow the pathway, for white vapour keeps 
sweeping over us, not dense enough, however, to exclude 
the rugged outline of the rocks, which in all their weird 
beauty may sometimes be dimly seen, but it makes the 
smooth, lichen-covered stones slippery; and a short dis- 
tance before me I presently saw a pair of mocassins 
against a background of grey mist, which threw them out 
in strong relief, and heard the cries of some one calling 
lustily for help. Instantly running to the rescue, my 
bearers found one of the baggage coolies holding on, 
head downwards, by the roots of a barberry bush, which 
had become exposed by the washing away of the soil : 
the poor fellow, having wandered slightly from the track, 
had fallen, whilst a precipice yawning beneath him, he 
was unable to change his terrible position unaided. 

The character of the scenery now changes rapidly, 
and in an hour's time, all appearance of mist departing, 



348 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

the joyous sun shines forth clearly, and Nature once more 
dries, starches, and gets herself up again. Far down in 
deep hollows, we observe dead pines lying by scores, 
whilst here and there a lonely trunk is seen standing, its 
bare roots showing singular reticulation, and branches 
covered with a lichen which we have hitherto met with 
at no other elevation, and which hangs in long delicate 

threads or filaments. At my request F gathers one, 

and on unwinding it carefully, we find that it measures 
no less than five yards in length. My bearers inform 
me that they use this species of lichen to burn in their 
Temples as incense, mixing it with spices and the wood 
of the juniper-tree. 

We are fast losing all trace of aconite, and in its place 
the ground is covered with a primrose closely resembling 
our English flower of the same name, but with petals of 
delicate pink, and leaves muffled up in little white fur 
coats of softest texture. The mountains are speckled 
with these pretty little flowers for miles and miles, our 
people treading them carelessly under foot at each step. 
There is also a hardy kind of rose, though not in bloom 
at this wintry season, and plenty of hips, if there were only 
birds to eat them, which there are not, and for which 
Nature, with a prodigality unlike herself, seems to have 
made useless provision. 

We now begin to follow a track marked out with 
slabs of slate, at distances of about twenty yards, erected, 
Tendook informs me, by the yak herdsmen, to enable 



THE ALPINE PRIMROSE. 349 

them to retrace their steps when snow falls, for they 
graze their yaks at this elevation during the milder 
seasons of the year, taking them lower down as winter 
approaches. 

The clouds, which had hidden all outline of the snowy 
peaks throughout the day's march, now roll away, leaving 
them for one brief interval to display themselves in all 
their lonely grandeur ; Kinchinjunga becoming gradually 
depressed and sinking behind nearer mountains as we 
travel north-west, whilst Kubra and Junnoo gain con- 
siderably in importance, although not so high by many 
thousand feet. 

Judging from the ascent we have made since leaving 
Mount Singaleelah, we cannot be at a much lower 
altitude than 14,000 feet, but as yet we have expe- 
rienced none of those sensations so feelingly described 
by travellers in far lesser heights. And here I must 
mention that, not only were we so unfortunate as to leave 
our ' aneroid ' behind, or to lose it on the way, as I have 
stated, but a few days before starting, by a most singular 
coincidence, an accident befell another instrument which 
F was to have brought to gauge the different eleva- 
tions, as well as to ascertain the temperature — an accident 
by which the bulb was broken. We were naturally very 
greatly distressed at our loss, the more so as to have sent 
to Calcutta to obtain another would have occupied fully 
a quarter of his leave ; but as we have not come for the 
purpose of making a ' survey,' but simply to enjoy the 



incidents of travel, and the magnificence of the scenes 
that lie stretched before us, it does not, after all, matter 
very greatly. 

Some of the mountains along this range, however, have 
been already measured, and, knowing their height, we are 
enabled to form a pretty fair estimate of the rest ; that is 
to say, within a few hundred feet or so, by observing the 
ascents and descents closely. 

Looking down into a hollow, enclosed by scarped 
precipices, we again see a few solitary pines, bare of 
foliage, but covered with those long filaments of lichen 
which I have before described, and which, having been 
continually blown by the wind in one direction, like 
witches' hair, have gradually become frost-bound, and 
are standing out in the most unnatural positions, some of 
them suspended horizontally in the very air. Nothing 
could be more extraordinary than their appearance — the 
long slender threads hanging out straight, and stiff, and 
motionless. 

Ascending higher, and rounding a rocky bluff, we 
find ourselves in a narrow gorge, hemmed in by mural 
precipices, in which are natural caves and slits in the 
solid rock, the heavy and measured ' tramp,' ' tramp ' of 
my dandy-bearers being echoed at each step. It is the 
kind of place to make one superstitious. 

'Wkos there, who? shouted Hatti in Hindustani, 
pronouncing each word separately and distinctly. In an 
instant the gorge was filled with muflded and mysterious 



ECHOES. 351 

voices, as echo answered echo, till the last was scarcely 
heard, and the cadence died away, 

'/ ami cried Nautch-wallah. Immediately, in the 
same language, and along the gorge, and upwards from 
the chasm, came the clatter of many voices, ' I am, I am,' 
till it was difficult to help believing there were a number 
of mocking, mischievous little imps hiding themselves in 
its fastnesses, or beneath the fallen rocks ; and I thought 
of Lattoo's warning, ' There are wicked spirits in the 
rocks, mem sahib.' 

It was amusing, also, to observe how the baggage 
coolies, who had previously been following our footsteps 
at some little distance, now hastened on and closed 
around us, with a scared expression written in their 
faces. 

* Ha, ha ! You are afraid !' exclaimed the courageous 
and more enlightened Nautch-wallah, in jeering accents, 
and instantly ran the muffled, mocking laugh, repeated 
a hundred times, 'Ha, ha ! You are afraid !' which only 
scared them more than ever. 

'You foolish fellows !' I cried, laughing, and address- 
ing the ignorant baggage coolies. ' Do you not hear that 
it is the echo of your own voices ?' 

* Nae, mem sahib, nae !' they replied, shaking in their 
mocassins, their very knees knocking together from sheer 
fright. * Don't laugh, they don't like it. They are the 
spirits calling to us from the rocks, and some accident 
will surely happen.' 



352 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



Having now traversed the gorge, we stand on the 
summit of a bare bleak alp ; and oh, how cold it is ! biting, 
nipping, sawing. In spite of my thickly wadded dress I 
become so chilled and frozen that I am almost lacrymose, 
something like a tear trickling down my face, and settling 
half way into an icicle, the only bodily sensation which I 
am at all capable of realising being that of a violent throb- 
bing in the extreme tip of my nose ! Scrambling on a little 
further, we reach a spot sheltered on all sides by frag- 
ments of bare black 'gneiss,' in the middle of which, as in 
a natural ingle, the cook had not only made a fire, but 
thinking we might be glad of some refreshment by the 
way — for our appetites seldom slumber long together 
in these lofty regions — he had the water in the kettles 
already boiling, in readiness for any emergency that 
might arise. 

It is a welcome sight ; but having heard that frost- 
bitten members have a way of disintegrating themselves 
from the general mass, on being brought into a too speedy 
contact with heat, I keep at a respectful distance from 
that treacherous element on the present occasion, and 
sitting down on a stone, my head buried in my lap, begin 
moralising on the uncomfortableness of all things, and the 
misery to which flesh is heir, and finish up all by crying 
myself into comfort. Moral obvious — Keep at home in 
yotcr snug houses, and rest satisfied with looking at the 
mountains from a distance. 

Then gradually drawing nearer to the fire, and ana- 



THE DELIGHTS OF TRAVEL! 353 

lysing my feelings as I thaw my smarting fingers, I come 
to the. conclusion, that travelling in these inclement heights 
at this season of the year brings with it keen bodily 
suffering. But utterly worn out by fatigue and exhaustion, 
and not much the better for my moralising, I fall asleep, 
and am at length awakened, I know not how long after, 

by F 's kindly voice. He has just overtaken me, and 

now, kneeling by my side, seems greatly distressed at 
my giving in thus, on our first day of real difficulty. 

Halting here, we have ' tiffin,' and reach camping- 
ground at six o'clock. The men, notwithstanding the 
slippery state of the soil, came on bravely to-day, and 
are all up, and busily pitching tents. 

The fog, which again overtook us an hour ago, pre- 
vents our seeing the view from this spot, which we instinc- 
tively feel must be very fine. But I am far too weary and 
tired to pay much heed to the beauties of scenery, even 
had any been visible ; and as soon as the tents are ready, 
taking refuge in mine, I throw myself down upon my 
mattress, now placed on the cold hard ground, the little 
iron bedsteads having been sent on to Pemionchi, with 
the rest of the heavy baggage. 

F , on the contrary, is in the highest spirits, the 

violent exercise of climbing having kept him warm ; and 
the only sensation of which he complains, is one common 
to most hardy mountaineers with a good digestion. I can 
both see and hear him, as I lie beneath the canvas, talk- 
ing to a little knot of men who have assembled round the 

z z 



camp-fire to listen to him, for he is regarded by them all 
with much affection, keeping them alive with anecdote 

and song. C , however, is grave as a rule, possessing 

one of those worn and thoughtful faces which so many 
do who have lived even a few years in a tropical climate ; 
but he possesses, nevertheless, a keen sense of quiet en- 
joyment, and even of the ludicrous sometimes, and is 
in every respect a most intellectual and pleasant com- 
panion. And I am not sure that one who is grave is 
not the kind of companion one wants amid these austere 
solitudes, where much laughter seems out of place. 

I am not permitted to remain in peace and quiet 

long, for F soon comes in, insisting on my rousing 

myself, and ' eating dinner like a Christian.' It is useless 
to argue that I am not hungry, and only covet to be left 
alone. Arguments fail in making any impression upon 
him whatever, and finding that continued obstinacy 
would vex him, I decide upon taking Mrs. Chick's advice 
to Mrs. Dombey, and 'make an effort' 

After dinner we sit round the fire in the open air as 
usual — a luxury we cannot expect many more times, as 
wood of the larger kind grows more scarce at each march, 
and we must then be contented to sit inside our tents, 
over the stoves. 

At a little distance, on another ledge or shelf of 
the mountain, stands our guide, the central figure of a 
number of men ; and the glare of the fire, lighting up 
his tall form, now clad in scarlet, too"ether with the sinister 




expression he always wears, makes him look wonderfully 
like Mephistopheles in the 'garden scene.' Summon- 
ing him, we make a careful examination of the scabbard 
of his knife, which is of the most beautiful workmanship 

and design, made in Nepaul. F offers him 50 rupees 

(5/.) for it ; he declines to part with it, however, upon any 
terms. Still he seems disposed to be communicative, and 
to make himself agreeable in other ways. But as he 
cannot speak much Hindustani, nor we Nepaulese, which 
is a dialect of Hinclee, conversation, as may be readily 
imagined, is of a rather spasmodic and unsatisfactory 
character. The countenances of the Nepaulese are, as a 
rule, very pleasing, if not actually handsome, and they 
are a plucky, daring, and warlike tribe, greatly skilled in 
the use of these knives, by the aid of which they have 
not only withstood Sepoys under the command of British 
officers, but on one occasion British bayonets also. 




3S6 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

DEODUNGA. 



' Teach me, by this stupendous scaffolding, 
Creation's golden steps, to climb to Thee.' 



All is quiet at dawn, not a sound breaking the stillness of 
Nature. Much refreshed by my night's sleep, and feeling 
quite able for the day's march further north, I hastily 
dress, and throwing a rug around me, determine to face 
the cold even at this early hour, and peep out. The 
western horizon is hidden by lofty and sullen crags, which 
frown down upon me black as Erebus, and so near do 
they appear that they seem literally suspended over my 
head, creating a painful sensation of oppression. The 
whole world, at least that part which is visible to me, is 
wrapped in profoundest gloom — a gloom infinitely more 
oppressive than total darkness, for none of the asperities 
of mountain and rock are softened by the herbage that is 
seen to clothe them by day with a garment that makes 
even their savage outlines fair and comely to look upon. 

I feel fearfully subdued amid this dread magnificence 
and vast chaos, for there is nothing tender and loving in 
the face of grand, glorious, majestic Nature at this hour. 



DEO DUNG A. 357 



Such an aspect must it have worn in the world's long- 
night, when, darkness brooding over it, it was without form 
and void. But very solemn and wonderful is it to watch 
Form grow gradually out of Chaos, and see things take 
shape one after another, and note how the void begins to 
live, as points of colour reveal themselves. How that 
black chasm opens and displays its frozen waterfall ! and 
that rock, before so grim, hovering over me like a 
Nemesis, is seen to be covered with an exquisite garment 
of lichens, in colours of red, and white, and orange. 

Beneath, at my very feet, lies a valley of desolation, 
hemmed in by a wall of micaceous and tempest-shattered 
peaks, and beetling crags, and above these an undulating 
sweep of crystal — the snowy range of Nepaul, looking mar- 
vellously near, and with that terrible beauty of death-like 
repose, which precedes sunrise, as it follows upon sunset. 

Whilst I stand alone amidst this infinitude of Nature, 
the sun, beginning to ascend on his triumphal car of 
crimson cloud, tips the highest pinnacle with an aerial 
glory. In an instant it dawned upon me that I was at 
last sfazinof on Mount Everest, the hiofhest mountain in the 
world. I could not be mistaken. There it stood, like a 
stupendous barrier, shutting out the west, with austere 
sublimity, till the glorious sun arises. Then, the whole 
scene changing, it became a mass of quivering, shimmering 
light, in every shade of opal, save in the shadows which, 
bathed in deepest sapphire, seemed to sanctify and lend 
a pathos to the whole. 



358 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

Hastening back to my tent I snatch up my block and 
colours, which are always in readiness, so that no time 
may be lost, when there is any particularly evanescent 
effect of light and shade to be jotted down, or any sketch 
to be taken on the march. Then ascending a knoll at some 
little distance above our encampment, whence I surmised 
I should have a more uninterrupted view, I looked across 
upon Mount Everest, which appeared to be floating in a 
sea of soft grey mist, out of which rose a rocky promon- 
tory with a castellated summit, all very distant, yet seem- 
ing inconceivably near in this pure atmosphere ; and what 
a magnificent and graceful sweep of snow it is ! From 
this spot it is, indeed, a superb and overwhelming vision 
of beauty, for the lower peaks of the range being excluded 
by rocky bluffs and bold headlands, it stands alone in 
stately, solitary majesty. It is wonderful, too, what a 
selfish gratification one feels when looking at an object 
which has never yet been either photographed or painted 
— a kind of exultation I may call it. And how my heart 
throbbed as I gazed at it ! 

Just below this place a species of co7iifer(Z is grow- 
ing, quite unlike the pines at a lower elevation, resem- 
bling juniper, but small and stunted, and almost bare. 
A sweep of them extends along the side of the alp upon 
which I am sketching, though at some hundred feet beneath 
me, their tempest-torn apices just showing themselves at 
the limits of the region of their growth. None of the other 
mountains, however, exhibit the faintest sign of vegeta- 



DEO DUNG A. 359 



tion except that of the leafless barberry, which grows in 
bushes about a foot and a half from the ground. 

' Sunrise on the (Swiss) Alps is magnificent,' wrote 
an English traveller in America, lately; 'but sunrise on 
the Sierra is sublime ! for here are the wilder solitudes, 
and here the grandeur and impressiveness of the remote 
New World, far away beyond the centre of civilisation.' 
And if true of the Sierra, how infinitely more so of 
sunrise on the Himalaya, which are almost twice their 
height, and whose solitudes have never yet, and never 
will be, trodden by the foot of man ! 

Clad in fur from head to foot, I managed to sketch 
hurriedly for an hour, accomplishing a little picture in 
which the form and colour of the mountains were suffi- 
ciently indicated to enable me to complete it at a later 
period. The annexed is a very unworthy representa- 
tion of that glorious scene, for it lacks the metallic lustre 
of the snow, which, however, I believe, cannot be re- 
produced by the most practised hand, or indeed by any 
human instrumentality whatever. 

Still sketching away in a perfect heaven of wonder 

and delight, I am suddenly brought to earth by F , 

who, having discovered my whereabouts, and folding my 
rug more closely round my shoulders, enquires whether 
I have not gone mad, to remain thus in the cold before 
the sun is well up. He, too, is wonderstruck by the 
scene, but, less enthusiastic than I am, thinks it will 
' keep,' his anxiety on my behalf just then outweighing 



36o THE INDIAN AIPS. 



whatever sestheticism might be kirking in his composition 
at that early hour ; and hurrying me away, he wakes the 
echoes unromantically by shouting in a Stentorian voice 
for ' giirni panee' (warm water). 

In a few seconds the whole camp is astir. Fires which 
had not quite gone out all night are a-blaze again, and 

C 's voice, proceeding from the depths of his rugs, 

reaches us in complaining and deprecatory accents, de- 
manding to be informed by what right he is thus dis- 
turbed at such an unearthly hour. In a short time 
F stands over me with some horrid potion, com- 
posed, I verily believe, of coffee with cognac in it, which 
he insists upon my drinking, whilst I ask him if he thinks 
anyone cozdd be so abominably material as to catch cold 
amidst such scenes ! It was fortunate, at any rate, that I 
had had the courage to rise as early as I did, for a cloud 
has this moment ascended, and obscured the whole face 
of the sky. 

Solemnly munching hard sea-biscuit, while F — — 
smokes his early cigar, I cautiously broach my intention 
of starting for the heights as soon as my dandy-bearers 
are ready, hoping therefrom to make a more careful sketch 
of Mount Everest. But nothino-, not even coaxing- this 
time, will induce him to give his consent. In vain I 
urge that ' life is short, and art is long :' he remains per- 
fectly obdurate, scarcely deigning to make me any reply, 
but seeming wholly absorbed in his cigar. My cause, I 
suspect, has been materially weakened by the want of 



pluck I displayed on the march yesterday ; he begins to 
fear I shall knock up altogether, and is evidently deter- 
mined to curb my enthusiasm if possible. Importunity 
and ' agitation,' however, at length prevail, as they always 
will over those who love peace and quiet. So summon 
ing Fanchyng, and rolling and bundling me up in shawls 
and rugs like an Egyptian mummy, he permits me to 
start ; and, with the usual body-guard, I am soon being 
carried up the very steep path above our encampment, 
if that can be called one over which my men scram- 
ble, now knee-deep in tough brown grass, rigid with 
frost, at other times over thin slabs of gneiss, very 
dangerous to the feet of those who do not wear mo- 
cassins ; the sun making the portions of mica, which 
dot the mountains far and near, glitter like cascades, 
from which, at a distance, it is not easy to distinguish 
them. 

How delightful to climb these wild gorges in the 
clear morning light, and watch the crystal beads, which 
imprison each twig and lichen stem, melt into shining 
drops as the sun grows warm ! Coming on thus early, 
when the sky is undimmed by mist, I see much more 

than F and C , who lose sights which thrill me 

with wonder and astonishment. But theirs is an un- 
avoidable detention, it being seldom that we can induce 
the coolies to strike tents and be ready for the march 
before ten o'clock at the earliest. 

We are now beyond the region of vegetation, with 

3 A 



the exception of the tough grass I have before spoken 
of, and a minute species of red hchen, the Pannelia mini- 
ata, which Hooker assures us is the most * Arctic, 
Antarctic, and Alpine' which exists ; and the world looks 
old, so very old here. Time has made such wrinkles in 
its dear old face. Everything bears marks of a hoary 
antiquity, and one seems to have been suddenly carried 
back into some earlier period of its history. In these 
scarce terrestrial altitudes, far removed from the strife 
of men, we seem to breathe an atmosphere not of earth. 
We are above the region where men are born, and live, 
and suffer, and agonise, and die ; above principalities and 
powers, and all things temporal. How small appear 
even the destinies of nations ! What to us are their 
rise and fall ? 

It is utterly hopeless to convey to the minds of those 
who have never travelled in the interior of the Hima- 
laya, the almost fierce majesty and barren grandeur of 
Nature in this great lonely land. I have visited most of 
the mountainous districts of Europe, but they give not 
the faintest idea of the wild desolation of these regions 
at 14,000, or 15,000 feet, commanding views of peaks 
twice their height again. 

It is within the portals of these sublime mountains 
that one realises of a truth, and in a way unintelligible to 
those who have not lived amongst them, the Unseen and 
Infinite. He exists in their profound silence, and in the 
antique mystery of all around. At such times one seems 



INFLUENCES OF MOUNTAIN SCRNRR\. 363 

to enter into dreary fellowship with them, their silence 
becomes eloquence, and they speak to the heart with a 
sublimer utterance than human lips can devise. Why do 
we often feel such kinship with Nature ? Is it not that 
the Great Unseen, revealing Himself through this pure 
medium — the glorious embodiment of Himself — is making 
us realise more fully, that we are one with Him, and 
them, and He with us ? 

Are not the mountains, waves, and skies a part 
Of me, and of my soul, and I of them ? 

CJiilde Harold. 

There are some things which to look upon make 
one better ; and as I stand in these vast solitudes I do 
so with bent knee and bowed head, as becomes one 
who Is in the felt presence of the Invisible. 

A perpetual wonder to me are these stupendous Hills, 
and I often feel embuedwith a wild eagle spirit, and long 
to soar and soar until I reach their very summits. The 
sea is a great Teacher, and the sky a volume in which 
God's own language is written in stars ; but these moun- 
tains, no less types of solidity and endurance beyond all 
Time, impress me with a sense of majesty and divinity 
above all else. 

Having climbed a considerable height and got behind 
the steep ridge that effectually shut out the Sikkim snows 
from our place of encampment, I behold Pundeem again 
towering above us, and I certainly never saw it look so 
superb. No other snow-clad peak is visible, for we have 



364 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



left all panoramic views behind, and only see them now 
in single grandeur, the greater part of the range being 
hidden by rocky precipices, upon which no living thing 
but hardy lichen even attempts to grow. Journeying on 




we came upon rocks that presented the most startling and 
singular form, assuming the appearance of quaintly sculp- 
tured faces, which from a little distance one could easily 
imagine to be the heads of ancient Titans, keeping watch 
over the world beneath. 



CHAOS. 365 

Gneiss, one of the oldest of the primary rocks, is the 
predominating structure in the Himalaya, being an 
aggregated mass consisting of felspar, quartz, and mica, 
but differing from granite in being schistose or slaty. 
We are now surrounded by one chaotic heap of stupen- 
dous blocks of this formation in every fantastic shape 
and position, leading one to believe that at one period 
of the world's history there must have been some vast 
explosion, and that the rocky surface of the earth, broken 
into fragments, must have been shot up into the air and 
fallen again, or else that it was due to one of those ' berg 
falls ' of which one sees the result in the beautiful Swiss 
Alps, — a mighty crag shattered, loosened, crumbling, and 
then falling at one burst — an avalanche of solid rock, 
occurring probably centuries ago, probably in prehistoric 
time. No one saw the crash, and the knowledge lies 
buried deep within themselves, for who can unravel the 
great ' riddle of the rocks ? ' But there is to my mind 
something terribly and inexpressibly thrilling in the utter 
loneliness of this stupendous convulsion of Nature, which 
operates on so gigantic a scale in these the vastest 
mountains of the globe. 

It is now impossible that I can be carried in my 
dandy, the passage between the madder-tinted blocks of 
gneiss being frequently too narrow. We have also to 
watch carefully for the newly upturned soil, our only in- 
dication of the pathway, which, once lost, we might find 
hard to regain. Pausing to rest, I look above and 



366 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

around, in profoundest awe and wonder. A vast ocean 
of naked debris, as far as eye can reach, lies spread before 
me, with nothing living to rob it of its gloom ; whilst to the 
right, barricading everything to the very sky, rises a 
mountain wall, down whose face huge rounded boulders 
lie scattered here and there, as though It had been 
' weeping tears of stone.' What pigmies we all appear ! 
Fanchyng, as she sits alpenstock in hand, pensively tracing 
her thoughts on a piece of lichen-covered stone, looking 
like a weird little Arcadian shepherdess through the 
wrong end of a telescope. Finding that my bearers are 
much exhausted by their climb, the chuprassees give to 

each a small quantity of rum, which F requested 

them to bring with them for the purpose in case of need. 

A spirit of some sort has evidently moved F • 

and C to make an unusually early start, for the con- 
tinuous noise of hammering, inseparable from the pitching 
and striking of tents, comes borne along the gorge and 
echoed from rock to rock, till I reach a point whence I 
can descry our camp in all the bustle and excitement of a 
move ; and a very pretty sight it is to look down upon 
those fairy tents, dwarfed into microscopic atoms far far 
beneath. 

As we ascend still higher, and emerge from behind a 
jutting rock that excluded it from our view, suddenly 
there is a loud and simultaneous exclamation of ' Deo- 
dunga ! Deodunga ! Gaurisankar ! ' from my attendants, 
all apostrophising it in their different dialects, as the 



magnificent spires of Mount Everest again burst unex- 
pectedly upon the view. 

Halting here, I determined from this spot if pos- 
sible to make a more complete sketch of the Imperial 
Deodunga (' Mount of God '), although even the attempt 
seemed little short of sacrilege, for it possesses a * grace 
and gleam,' far beyond the reach of Art, which can only 
be realised by the inner eye, and can neither be por- 
trayed nor described. I prefer using the Thibetan to the 
English name of this glorious mountain, because the 
natives, who regard it with deep awe and reverence, 
seem to have had a fuller and deeper appreciation of it 
— the purest and noblest type on earth of the Almighty 
Architect — when they named it Deodunga. I had all 
along been almost dreading to see it, for, as Kinchin- 
junga had slightly disappointed me on nearer approach, 
becoming depressed and partially hidden by nearer 
mountains, I feared, as some writer has expressed it, 
the extinction of another of those lights which shine 
along one's pathway, but go out like a snuff the moment 
one becomes within reach of the fulfilment of one's 
hopes. But here I am, after long and patient waiting — 
for it was the dream of my childhood to see this nearest 
point of earth to heaven — gazing at it with bodily eyes, 
yet never having conceived anything so glorious, so vast, 
so Godlike. How unutterably ethereal they look, ' those 
silent pinnacles of aged snow ! ' There is a purity not 
of earth in that solemn stately pile, and a beauty 



368 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

indefinable, which only Turner, that greatest of all modern 
painters — so much abused by * common folk ' because 
so little understood — could represent. He saw a divine 
light and glory over things that material minds never 
realise or see — a something /^/^ rather than actually seen, 
a something which is spiritually discerned. 

Turner's was a mind in which Nature called up strong 
emotion, and he painted what he felt ; and the more I live 
amongst its sublime sanctuaries, the more convinced do I 
become that there is a something real in it, to which the 
whole being of some persons responds, but which is never- 
theless wholly unreal to others. As I sit gazing on this 
magnificent mountain, so earnest and pathetic in its 
great loneliness, a passion of sunlight bursts over it, and 
I feel more than ever how feeble is Art in its power 
of reproducing Nature, and I close my easel with a 
humbled and broken spirit. 

A faint white mist now begins to rise out of the valley 
below Deodunga, and, gradually ascending, becomes a 
thick cloud, until in a few minutes everything is as much 
a thing of the past as if it had never been. 

We fondly hoped that we had risen above cloud- 
land ; but that happy region seems nowhere to exist in the 
Himalaya, which appear determined we shall have little 
more than momentary glimpses of them. 

My people had already lighted a fire for themselves 
some paces off; and when I ordered another to be instantly 
made for myself, some half a dozen fellows were seen 



/ A WAIT THE ARRIVAL OF THE CAMP. 369 

scrambling down the gorge in quest of brambles. Soon 
returning, they succeeded in creating one out of the 
little twigs and branches of the prickly barberry. It is 
amusing to observe how nimbly these mountaineers run 
in and out and over the rocks when they have no 
loads to carry : in half an hour's time a whole heap of 
brambles is collected, and a fire not only kindled but 
blazing away, sending forth columns of smoke, over 
which I sit and choke, feeling that, like the Soubah, my 




complexion is gradually growing mellow and beautiful, 
by the daily process of smoke-drying to which it is 
subjected. 

Little Goboon came on with me, as one of my body- 
guard to-day. Tendook, for some cause or other having 
been detained at the camp, was prevented from accompany- 
ing me as usual. There is a mixture of girlishness and 
manliness about this lad that is perfectly bewitching. He 

3 B 



370 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

must have been told by some one — Tendook probably — 
how much I admired him, for whenever I catch his e3^e 
he blushes and averts his face, with a conscious half- 
pleased look that amuses me immensely. 

So thoroughly wetting is this mountain mist, which 
increases each moment, that not only are our fires almost 
extinguished by it, but my outer garments saturated, and 
I began to have some slight anxiety lest the camp should 
not be able to follow the pathway. I had no actual 
fears of their ultimately reaching me, as the newly 
upturned soil of our Sappers corps could be easily followed, 
if they only watched its leadings a little carefully. My 
chief apprehension was rather lest, in a paroxysm of hunger, 

F and C should set-to and devour the ' tiffin ' ! 

Still I sat watching and waiting patiently, whilst the mist 
skimmed past, listening for the first approach of footsteps. 
It was so long ago I heard them striking tents, that 
surely they ought to have overtaken me by this time. 

' Do you think they will ever find us ? ' I cried, sum- 
moning to my side Fanchyng, for whom I begin to feel 
a kind of affection, not, I am afraid, from any qualities 
in herself that are particularly interesting, but, like the 
Prisoner of Chillon with his rats, an affection entirely 
faute de mieux, and simply because she is the only ray of 
womankind amongst such a wilderness of men. 

' Eh, yes ! ' she replied ; ' why not ? the Mem sahib is 
nervous.' 

I do not know how long I waited, having left my watch 



1 AM SEIZED WITH ALARM. 371 

behind, together with other things which belong to civiH- 
sation ; but suspense made it seem an hour, when I heard 
at last the welcome sound of voices. They were coming 
then, at least some of our camp, and the gentlemen no 
doubt, having seen all on before them, would immediately 
follow. But still I waited another weary while, fixing my 
eyes in the direction of the pathway, vainly endeavouring 
to penetrate the dense mist that surrounded me, and 
expecting each moment to see some dark form emerge ; 
yet they did not come, and all sound of voices gradzially 
died azcaj. 

Then suddenly a terrible thought seized me. They 
had no doubt come within some distance, had probably 
traversed the gorge above our late encampment, whence 
the sound of their voices ascended, as sound does ascend, 
and then, misled by the fog, had lost sight of the path, 
and might at this moment be wandering farther and 
farther from me. 

Now this would have been a fittinof occasion for 

hysterics — /li^'/i sti'ikes, as F calls them — they would 

have come in effectively here ; but I am not given 
to such demonstrations, so sitting down, I quaked and 
trembled silently beneath my waterproof, getting wetter 
and wetter each moment. 

My situation to all appearance was a frightful one. 
Every possibility rose before me, as is invariably the 
case at such times ; at last I sprang to my feet in real 
mental agony. If they had indeed lost their way, they 



372 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



might wander on for days without finding us in this 
dense fog, or even should it clear, still, having once de- 
viated from the track, they could not soon recover it in 
such a wilderness of rock ; and cut off from all supplies 
of food and shelter, I might verify the predictions of 
those who intimated the probability of my leaving my 
bones behind, to whiten on some mountain top. 



0% r^ 




CHAPTER XXXV. 

WE CONSUME OUR BREAKFAST, TOGETHER WITH OUR OWN 

SMOKE. 

Such, however, was not destined to be my fate — not yet 
at any rate — for Hatti, who had gone off in the direc- 
tion in which the camp must come, supposing they had 
not mistaken the route, now returned, saying he could 
hear the sound of approaching footsteps ; and I soon 
recognised the magnificent proportions of Tendook, who 
came scrambHng along in breathless haste, having — 
good old fellow — anticipated that I should feel anxious. 
At that moment I think I could have embraced him 
heartily had he not been so completely out of breath, 
rendering such action on my part perilous to his equi- 
librium. When he had recovered himself sufficiently, 
and not before, he gave me the delightful assurance that 
all would soon follow. 

The voices I heard therefore must have been those 
of Tendook and one of the baggage coolies, which, 
although sounding within fifty yards of us, must in reality 
have been a great distance off, as Tendook did not him- 
self overtake us till fully half an hour afterwards, I had 



374 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



previously heard how near sound occasionally appears in 
a fog at these altitudes, and the many voices that now 
reach us — indicating the gradual approach of the camp 
— seem surprisingly so, although Tendook assures me 
they cannot yet have begun the ascent of this mountain. 
Our men at length come straggling up by twos and 
threes. First arrives the culinary establishment — the cook 
and kitmutgars, followed by the coolie whose mission It 

is to carry the pots, kettles, 
and batte7^ie de ctdsine gfene- 
rally, and whom we have 
named ' Sprot.' A very gipsy- 
like figure he makes, wrapped 
in his blanket, the handles 
sticking out of his basket and 
keeping up a constant rattle. 

By the time F and 

C come up, breakfast Is 

ready, which, sitting over the 
fire, we consume, together 
with our own smoke, and looking down from these 
heights, as from Mount Olympus, we feel like Celestials 
In the city of the gods. What a comfort It is to us, who 
are always hungry, that the Greeks permitted them to 
eat like mortals ! We are partaking of our repast with 
our usual resignation, when Pugla-wallah and little Rags 

present themselves to ask for medicine. F gives 

them all a dole of rum regularly now at the end of each 




F INVENTS A MEDICINE FOR THE SICK. 375 



clay's march ; but for the benefit of the sick he has in- 
vented an especially ingenious compound of rum and 
quinine, making these ingredients into a comforting drink 
by adding hot water and sugar ; and although it may not 
be found in the Pharmacopceia, it is a remarkably fine 
mixture notwithstanding, and, as might be expected, 
patients daily increase. 

Wishing much to know the position of Jongli, Ten- 
dook enquires from the Guide which mountain it is, and 
then makes a wonderful little model of the surrounding 
country with dry earth and sand, as I sit idly by, and 
points it out to me, dimly visible in a north-easterly direc- 
tion, apparently about sixteen miles away as a bird would 
fly. Its elevation is 14,500 feet, but it certainly looks 
from this distance considerably below us. 

The messengers whom C despatched to the Kajee 

of Yangting have not yet overtaken us as we expected. 
Surely he must have detained them ; matters already 
begin to look serious. Five sheep are left, however, and 
these were purchased by our host for our own exclusive 
benefit ; but he has promised one to the camp to-night, 
which has cheered them greatly. At all hazards we must 
now travel onwards, having more chance of finding food 
whither we are going, than by returning whence we came, 
as each march brings us nearer to the next point, where 
we hope to find supplies awaiting us. Moreover, as we 
make short marches, we have great hopes of its still 
following us from Yangting. 



376 THE INDIAN ALPS 

After leaving this spot we followed a narrow path- 
way, formed, as we supposed, by the yak herdsmen, along 
which, at distances of about fifty yards, upright slabs of 
gneiss, like small telegraph posts, were placed, such as we 
had seen elsewhere, to mark the track over this wilder- 
ness when snow falls, and we almost felt that we had 
again reached the haunts of man. It was an intense 
gratification to recognise even these small tokens of the 
existence of human life ! 

From this track several diverged, and across all, save 
one, the Guide had placed slight barriers, in the shape of 
brambles and stones, to prevent those behind from follow- 
ing them, as also to indicate the right pathway to the men 
who may even yet, we hope, overtake us with food. To 
enable them to catch us up, we have hitherto, as I have 
said, made shorter marches than we should otherwise 
have done. But I fancy it will soon be a question with 
us, whether we should not rather relinquish all idea of its 
ever reaching us from that quarter, and make forced 
marches to the next spot to which it was arranged that 
food should be sent. 

Whilst bivouacking opposite Deodunga, my bearers 
occupied themselves in constructing a dandy for me, of a 
different kind from my own, by slinging one of the dhurries, 
or tent rugs, on to a long bamboo pole, the loop of 
which formed the seat, the knees resting on one side of the 

pole and the head on the other, the kind of thing F 

wished me to travel in, and which, if I mistake not, I 



must have described elsewhere. It is a comfortable 
arrangement enough over a good pathway, but in such 
rough cross-country travelling as this, nothing could be 
worse, and I soon discarded it for my old friend the 
Bareilly dandy ; for my feet dangling over the sling, and 
coming in contact with the sharp pieces of slate and stone 
through which my men scrambled, got severely knocked 
and battered. 

We are all by this time suffering, more or less, from 
the rarefied state of the atmosphere : I principally from 
intermittent beating of the heart and palpitation, and 

F from a compressed sensation across the brows 

and drumming in the ears. 

On our way we meet with a small and curious species 
of heather, with foliage very rigid, its little brown and 
shrivelled flowers trembling with the cold. Ah ! those who 
are fond of heather should see it on the moors of North 
Devon, where it grows as I have never seen it elsewhere, 
not in shaggy tufts, but in thick bushes, as though it loved 
the soil, and where with it blooms the gorse, whose yellow 
spikes contrast wonderfully with the rich purple of the 
heather. These moors are Nature's garden in August 
and September, and are one vast expanse of delicious 
colour, in every gradation of yellow, orange, purple, and 
green, which, standing out against the liquid azure of the 
sky, form a picture I would gladly travel far again 
to see. 

We now wind round the declivity of a mountain, 



378 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

over piles of huge slabs of slate, which have been slowly 
toppling down for ages, and which cover its surface 
from top to bottom. One could scarcely help imagin- 
ing that some giant must have a mine near its summit, 
and that these stones are shale, which he has been 
shooting out of it for centuries. All are sharp and angu- 
lar : some lying on their sides ; whilst others, standing 
erect, look like tombstones, upon which long epitaphs, 
and blurred records of the past, are written in blood-red 
lichen stains. Others again appropriately assume the form 
of gigantic coffins, for a deadly precipice yawns beneath ; 
and the weather having discoloured them in grotesque 
patterns here and there, they sometimes look as though 
they were making faces at us, as we clamber along. So 
enormous, too, are these unchiseled blocks of slate, that 
the line of baggage coolies, before and behind, look like 
a procession of tiny puppets. 

Skirting these mountains we are often surprised, even 
in elevations such as these, to find the heat quite oppres- 
sive from the air currents, which ascend from the steamy 
tropical valleys thousands of feet below. We have all 
too by this time learnt where precipices are, even in 
the densest fog, from the peculiar feeling of the air. 

Our day's march at an end, we sit over the tent stove, 
and have a long talk with C— — .- of things present and 
eternal, even of the mysteries of life and death — subjects 
far beyond our ken. Presently a pitiful object was seen 
standing without, in the person of the coolie to whom 



'A MAN AND A BROTHER: 379 

is entrusted a no less precious load than that of my 
sketching materials. The poor fellow was speechless, his 
hands were clasped, his hair stood almost erect, whilst 
fear and trembling bristled through every thread of his 
coarse gaberdine. 

'What would the Sahib logice do to him?' He 
had lost everything but my easel and a large and 
almost useless drawing board ; my colour box and 
block, on which was a pet sketch more highly finished 
than usual, having slid out of the rope with which 
he had tied the whole to his ' kursing,' were all 
gone, gone he knew not whither. The brushes he 
thought he might be able to make out of his own hair, 
but the paints and the taswir, ah ! who amongst them 
could write mountains and trees like the Mem sahib ! 
She would forgive him, however ; but the Sahib logue I — 
and here he burst out crying. 

Dreading some fearful punishment from the aveng- 
ing deities in the persons of the Sahib logue, the poor 
fellow was in an agony ; but I consoled him by saying 
that I had not only more paints and drawing paper, but I 
hoped brushes also ; and as for the taswir, there were 
plenty of others still left to be done, and he might dry his 
eyes, for the Sahib logue would not only not do anything 
to him, but should never hear of the circumstance at all. 

It was too late in the evening to go back and try to 
find it ; but the next morning, on leaving my tent, I saw 
a spongy-looking substance being dried over the fire. 



This turned out to be my block, which they had sought 
for at earHest dawn, and which, having been thickly 
coated with hoar-frost during the night, had become 
unglued at the edges, by the so-called process of drying, 
and was now almost soaked to pieces, and little better 
than a jelly. I perceived that our tents also were covered 
with a thick powdering of ice-crystals in arabesque pat- 
terns, and the little black sheep had also turned white under 
the same process. No food having overtaken us, we have 
been compelled to alter our route. Rice is diminishing 
ominously, and there is only a small quantity of bhoota left 
and four sheep. This being the case, we have decided, 
after much anxious deliberation, to travel over the Dum- 
gongla Pass only, leaving that of Kanglanamo to the 
north-west, and by striking off due east to a mountain 
called Yangpoong, arrive at Jongli by quite another way. 

This is a source of no small disappointment, but the 
only safe plan, for, by travelling in a more northerly 
direction, and getting into deeper snow with the mere 
hope of food reaching us, would be absolute madness. 
We have no right to risk the lives of our people, 
even were we disposed to hazard our own. Once 
at Yangpoong, should supplies meanwhile not over- 
take us, we shall not be far from a village, which we 
must sack in case of need. 

With the exception of a few hours' hard climbing 
at the beginning of the march to-day, we have been 
gradually descending till we come once more upon the 



little barberry, at this elevation destitute of its once blos- 
som-like leaves, and reach a rocky defile, whose crags 
are shattered by centuries of frosts, or rather aeons, for 
centuries are but as a day that is told in contemplating 
these old world formations. Our way through its grim 
portals lay over immense piles of slate, split into thin 
fragments ; then ascending again, we saw evidences of 
man's existence in narrow tracks worn by yak herds- 
men, and came to a path broader than the rest, leading 
in a north-easterly direction ; and here again a pile of 
stones was placed, to prevent our traversing it. It led 
over barren moors, and somehow had a frequented look ; 
whilst the one we were to pursue presented a weary waste, 
which made my very heart sink within me. 

' That, Mem sahib,' said my little dandy-bearer, who 
always tells me the names of the mountains, pointing in 
the direction whither the pathway led, — ' that is the way 
to Yangpoong. Mem sahib never reach Yangpoong by 
/'/^wway.' Whereupon I told him that, as our Guide came 
here every summer, he must surely know the way. 

' Nae, Mem sahib ! but this path leads to the White 
Mountains, but that to mountains where green things 
grow. Yangpoong is not a high mountain ; men live 
there in the summer months ' — words I thought nothing 
of when they were spoken, but very much some time after. 

* When persons take a guide, they do not go the road 
they think best themselves,' I replied, ' but leave it to 
him to direct ; otherwise what is the use of a guide ? ' 



382 



77/ A INhlAN ALPS. 



Whereupon llic litllc iii;iii, ffclin?^ (|iiitc sniil>l)f<l, .s.ild no 
fjior<-, abotil: it, l>nl followed my (hnuly in silence. 

A;; w<- look ahove, helow, inonnd, ;ill i', one |>;iinfnl scene 
of deHohilion, llnt'e honlders, liillen (loni the liei'.'lits, lie 




m'ir 



, ..'r, •'.'- .' 







|)ois(Ml one npnn .niol lier in ;i vv.iy lli.il makes one slindder 
.m<l hold one's IhciIIi, lesl I lie sli'dile;,! vil»i;ilion ol llie 
;iir slionld lunl Hxin down upon ns ; ;nid I I. ill! lelis me 
liovv lliey kill dmm;' Mie ' liiins,' ;nid ll):il llien il is 
iiii'lily d;in!;eron!. lo lr;ivel in liiesc rc_L(i()liS, 



THE WAY TO THE WJIITE MOUNTAINS. 383 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

now WIC DINE AT 14,000 FEET AI'-OVl^ THE T,EVEL OF 

THE SEA. 

We have seen no trace of the existence of human 
life, apart from that of our camp, since meeting the fur- 
clad man leading the procession of salt-laden goats at 
Soubahgoom, nor a vestige of habitation ; and travelling 
hour after hour in these desolate wilds, so full of strange 
weird mystery, one feels greatly impressed with the pro- 
fundity of the solitude, which begets within one a feeling 
akin to awe. 

Some persons seem born with a physical affinity to 
Nature, of whom I think I must be one, for I love to be 
alone in these vast prima val solitudes, where words seem 
out of place ; and it is with no human form near me, that 
I best love to hold communion with them. We some- 
times ask ourselves what right we have to intrude upon 
this great lonely land, left unpeopled since the creation of 
man, a loneliness which our presence almost seems to 
desecrate. The complete absence of every form of life is 
unutterably solemn. Nature for once seems untrue to 
her own laws, for we are surrounded by a great void. 



384 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

Not a bird or insect hovers in the air, and we feel alone 
in the presence of the Great Spirit. 

'■ As yet we have not reached the region of snow ; but 
journeying onwards by a very gradual yet perceptible 
ascent, we get into the land of icicles, and the farther we 
proceed, with a firmer grip does the cruel frost set his 
iron hand upon everything. All Nature whitens and 
hardens, and wears a chilling aspect. It is a land of 
desolation quite beyond my feeble power to describe ; 
a silent world of ice ; a silence which grows more 
and more absolute ; a silence truly felt, and one which 
makes itself articulate solely by the faint echo of our 
footsteps. 

There is no colour in anything. Red lichen and brown 
rock and upturned soil, under the chilling breath of the ice- 
king, are all alike clothed in a garment of white, and present 
one monotonous tone to the eye, save when the feeble 
sun, lighting up the ocean of tiny crystals, makes them 
sparkle like a thousand prisms ; and then we truly feel 
that we have been transported to some fairy country. In 
these regions the very sun himself looks pale and frozen, 
and shines as with an effort, whilst each blade of )'ellow 
grass, which hangs over the stern and ancient rocks, has 
its frozen tear. 

We are to reach the summit of another mountain 
to-day if possible ; and as our Guide — in whom, having 
been provided by the Soubah, we have perfect confidence, 
and to whose direction we have left our entire route — 



tells us we have some very severe climbing before us, we 
are to start early, and must quit our tents at once. 

A source of profound amusement to our men along 
the way arises in gathering icicles which hang like sta- 
lactites over everything, and slyly thrusting them down 
the backs of those who happen to be in advance. This 
is followed by shrieks from the victims, and shouts of 
laughter from the rest, till all engage in the guerilla 
warfare. Even the grave and solemn Tendook, laying 
aside his dignity for the time, gives himself up to this 
invigorating exercise, which seems as irresistible to him 
as snow-balling to an English schoolboy. 

The oTfound here is so covered with fragments of mica 
schist, as well as slate, that the poor fellows get terribly 
lamed, few having any protection for the feet, the mo- 
cassins which they possessed on starting from home 
having worn out long ago. Now and again they may 
be seen sitting down and binding up their wounds, and 
then journeying on as cheerily as before: 

Whatever happens to us now is ascribed to the effects 
of elevation. One has a splitting headache ; it is eleva- 
tion ! Another has a stitch in his side ; it is elevation ! 
A third loses his hat or head-gear; it is elevation! A 
fourth loses his temper ; it is only the elevation ! But 
whatever else we may happen to lose, we never by any 
chance lose our appetites. — May I be^ forgiven for allud- 
ing to this weakness of the flesh so often ! — On these, 
alas ! no amount of elevation makes the slightest impres- 

3 D 



siori ; for although we all do undoubtedly suffer more or 
less from the rarefied state of the atmosphere, we find 
that when we halt for our mid-day meal, we watch its 
preparation with undiminished interest, and partake of it, 
when ready, with appetites that would astonish everyone 
but ourselves. Our feasts in these days of severe moun- 
taineering remind one of those of the Roman emperors. 
In fact, we live in a chronic and humiliating condition of 
absolute and unmitigated hunger. 

On our march to-day, we halted for luncheon on the 
narrow ridge of a precipice. Beneath us a little pro- 
cession of white clouds, travelling westward, dappled a 
mmiature valley 12,000 feet below with alternate light 
and shade ; and we looked down upon pines, dwarfed 
into the veriest Dutch toys, thence into depths reeking 
with moisture, and choked with tropical vegetation. In 
this clear air, distant objects may be seen with a dis- 
tinctness perfectly marvellous, and by the aid of a 
field-glass we could follow the course of a river, winding 
its way along to the far-off sea, not a drop of it the 
same as it was an hour ago, in strange contrast to these 
immovable and eternal rocks under which we sat, and 
upon which years will make no change except that 
wrought by natural denudation — the gradual wearing 
away caused by Time's own footsteps. The verdant 
valley was very beautiful, and wondrous altogether 
was the view that lay stretched at our feet ; whilst we 
poor freezing creatures, surrounded by icicles, were vainly 



ir/i BREAKFAST ON IJII'. /<:/)(; /i or. I /'R/'IC/J'/C/':. 



endeavourinor to shelter ourselves from the piercing- cold 
behind a rock, as we ate aesthetic, not to say frozen bacon, 
and drank ' resthetic tea,' doing our little best to be grimly 
happy amongst these new wonders. But it is somewhat 
difficult to enjoy or see beauty in anything, when a pain in 
each shoulder, like the perpetual gnawing of a hungry rat, 




ceases neither day nor night ; when sudden twinges in 
the sciatic nerve, like a rusty screw being driven into 
you, almost make you scream aloud ; and when every one 
of your muscles seems tied up in hard knots, and each 
to be pulling the wrong way. 

Before continuing the march, F doled out a 

small quantity of rum to each man, which is medicine 
very precious in these days ; and there begins to be such 
a drain upon our supply, that he has great fears it will not 
hold out much longer. U nder these grave considerations, 
he has lately taken upon himself to dilute it without their 



388 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

knowledge ; and the proportion of the inebriating quaHty 
becomes srnall by degrees, and so beautifully less each 
time, that ere long it will doubtless subside \v\X.o aqua 
pura ; and if so, we only hope that, like everything else, 
it may be ascribed to the effects of ' elevation ! ' 

Otir beverage, however, is invariably tea ; and let me 
recommend all mountain travellers to try it, and I ven- 
ture to say they will soon discard every stimulant in 
its favour, for when weary and fatigued, it refreshes both 
body and mind, and sets one up, and pulls one together 
again, to a degree that nothing else can. 

We now descend a mountain by a very steep gra- 
dient, which occupies about two hours, and once more find 
ourselves in the midst of the aromatic rhododendron, 
emitting its delicious perfume, and silently performing 
the functions of its growth, with no human eye to see 
it, till one almost wondered at the waste of sweetness 
which Nature had scattered with such lavish hand. 
Scrarnbling down the mountain-side, Fanchyng stoops to 
pluck its leaves, till her skirt, which she forms into an 
apron for the purpose, is full of them. She tells me she is 
gathering them to make a pillow for her little brother, who 
has fever, and to whom she seems devotedly attached ; 
upon which I ask her if they are considered a remedy^ 
but am answered in the negative. She only wants them 
for the perfume, she says, which is lasting and refreshing 
' when persons are sick ; ' adding sadly, ' and we often use 
them to cover the dead.' 



JFJi GET INTO SNOW. 



389 



Arriving at the end of the descent, we cross a broad 
valley, through which the dry bed of a river winds, and 
ascending the heights on the other side, again reach cold 
latitudes. And we are now not far below the line of per- 
petual congelation ; hard beds of neve, easily distinguish- 
able through a field-glass, from newly fallen snow, lying in 




the hollows of the mountains above us. During the latter 
part of our day's march we came upon it fourteen inches 
deep. This snow, having lately fallen, and not having 
had time to harden, rendered climbing very laborious, 
and the feet getting clogged with it, many falls, which 

even F did not escape, were the consequence ; but 

the 'burra sahib,' rightly imbued with a sense of his 



390 THE INDIAN ALPS 

own majesty, took care, by being well on in advance of 
us, that we should have no opportunity of witnessing' 
any such little humiliations on his part. 

Walking by my side, F looks like old Father 

Christmas, in the good old times, when the ' merrie 
merrie month of May' cam^e in with soft zephyrs, instead 
of biting east winds, and Christmas was invariably 
ushered in with Its snow-storm ; for he also has turned 




white, every hair of his face and head being beaded 
with its own sharp little icicle, whilst the powdering of 
snow he comes in for, as he works his way in and out 
of the rocks, envelopes him in a perpetual mantle of 
white. At length, fairly tired out, and going on quickly 
to ascertain whether we had almost reached encamp- 
ment, a \\^2.xty yodel soon reached our ears ; and then, to 
our great joy, we saw him standing on an eminence 
waving his hat to us, for beneath it in a sheltered nook, 
like an oasis in the frozen desert, where the sun had 



melted the snow, he had descried our little nest of tents, 
looking from that distance like mushrooms growing in 
the green sward of a meadow. 

On arrival I observe our host, who, having preceded 
us, is already standing by the cooking tent overhauling 
the commissariat baskets, obviously cumbered about 
things of the flesh, and hear him order another sheep to 
be slaughtered for the camp ; when suddenly there is an 
alarm of fire. The canvas of our tent surrounding the flue 
of the little stove had become ignited, and was smoulder- 
ing. The fire, however, was happily soon extinguished, 
little harm being done, as it was discovered in time. 

Seated at dinner, we learn that several men were taken 
ill upon the march. Catoo had overtaken three, who, 
having discarded their loads, were lying helplessly on 
the ground. Narboo also, the interpreter, has given 
in, complaining of great pain in his head, and nausea. 
But none, like myself, appear to experience difficulty of 
breathing — a distressing sensation which has prevented my 
lying down for several nights past, obliging me to main- 
tain an upright position, my head resting against one of 
the high baggage baskets. We are all, too, more or less 
subdued mentally ; the scarcity of food daily increasing 
is a circumstance that lies sadly on our hearts, and is an 
anxiety we cannot overcome. 

Later in the evening Fanchyng came to ask for qui- 
nine for her brother ; and just as I was retiring to my 
tent, little Rags presented himself as a suppliant for a 



392 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

repetition of the dose of the previous day. It must, 1 
think, be the alcohol which makes them so anxious for it — 
these mountaineers take very kindly to the Englishman's 
' fire water.' 

Proud to see his mixture so much appreciated, F — — - 
forthwith proceeded to prepare it ; and on this occa- 
sion having no rum at hand, he had recourse to his own 
private and particular brandy flask. The quinine, hot 
water, and other ingredients, having been mixed, he 
concluded his ministrations by pouring, with the aid of 
the dim light, a goodly portion of its contents into the 
wooden bowl brought by the little man for the purpose ; 
but I watched him quaff the draught with a look of disap- 
pointment mingled with disgust, which I marvelled at 
greatly at the time ; nor was it till, seized with violent 

headache and nausea during the night, F sought relief 

himself in the flask aforesaid, that he remembered how, 
having exhausted the remainder of its contents in the 
former part of the day, he had subsequently replenished 
it at a streamlet thawed by our camp fire. The 
melancholy expression of my little dandy-bearer, as he 
drank the bitter compound, was at once explained, and 
I need scarcely add that he never came to our dispensary 
again. 

At this time, when ' days are dark and friends are 
few,' our toilets are of the very simplest and most unpre- 
tending kind, and the perception of the 'beautiful,' as 
far as the adornment of the outward man is concerned, is 



EXTERNAL INFLUENCES OF THE CLIMATE. 393 

but little heeded. We are fast growing callous to 
our personal appearance, and I have become, by long 
habit and association, almost reconciled to the very, 
chilblain on my nose, which has assumed a chronic, 

not to say an acute, form ; F , however, insisting 

that the chilblain is a myth, and entirely an invention of 
my own. But it is so long since I beheld myself reflected 
in a glass, that I tell him I can only guess at external 
appearances from internal sensations. 

Our faces are all blistered, our lips livid and cracked, 
our complexions a becoming mixture of blue and red like 

mottled soap. Our features are swollen, whilst F , 

finding the process of shaving an impossibility, is in 
that transition state in which a man looks like a dis- 
reputable brigand ; and I tell him that I should myself 
be afraid to meet him on a lonely road ! I doubt whether 
either of our nearest and dearest friends would recognise 

us, although C takes more kindly, in appearance, to 

the life of a mountaineer, frost and cold having less influ- 
ence upon him than upon ourselves. 

We are fast relinquishing the common habit of making 
any particular toilet for the night, which we begin to 
regard as belonging to the trammels of an effete 
civilisation, and generally go to sleep in full panoply. 
It is the custom amongst us now, on wishing each other 
' good-night,' to make tender enquiries as to how 
small a change of raiment we purpose making, and 
generally decide in favour of retaining everything with 

^^ E 



394 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



the exception of hats and boots. Nor could we well do 
otherwise, for all the articles of attire one does not, 
actually wear become so hopelessly frozen before 
morning, and one feels besides so frost-bitten as soon as 
one leaves one's rugs, that dressing is a moral impossi- 
bility. Even my hair, uncoiling in my restlessness last 




night, and hanging outside the covering, became so com- 
pletely frozen and rigid, that this morning when I awoke 
it was standing out as stiffly as did the lichen which 
festooned the pine-trees ; nor was it till I had roasted my 
head over the camp-fire, that I could bring it back to 
anything like reason, and its normal condition ; Fanchyng, 
who has evidently learnt something of the customs of 



liOJV WE DINE AT 14,000 EEET. 395 



English ladies of the period, giving it as /ic7' opinion, 
that it is a great mistake to have one's own back hair ! 

We dine in our hats and wraps, and, assembled round 
the dinner-table, form a very grotesque group ; and we 
are so frightfully rheumatic, that when seated we don't 
know how in the world to get up again, and when stand- 
ing it is positive agony to think of sitting down. 

I have not, however, wholly given up the conventiona- 
lities of life. Fanchyng still attends me when I retire 
for the night, superintending the ceremony of removing 
my hat and boots. A propos of the latter, I may here 
mention that I long ago discarded my mocassins in her 
favour, being unable any longer to survive the mental 
shocks I hourly experienced at the sight of my own feet. 



396 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 



THE LAND OF ICE. 



Fanchyng is in much distress about her brother's illness, 
which, although, so far as I can ascertain, it is only an 
ordinary attack of fever of the country, yet seems to 
cause her much alarm. She has always appeared to me 
to care much more about him than about Nimboo, and 
I doubt if there ever exists very much affection between 
husbands and wives in this land, where marriages are 
often arranged wholly by the parents. In fact, so utterly 
distraite is she, that I have exempted her from all work, 
that she may devote the whole of her attention to her 
sick brother, and have consequently taken to packing 
portmanteaus and travelling impediments myself. 

It is altogether with a heavy heart that I get into my 
dandy, and begin the day's march, which turns out to be 
much the same as that of the two previous ones. We 
journey over a white land of desolation, occasionally 
skirting deep chasms, filled with stupendous blocks of 
brown gneiss, detached from the heights by the action 
of the frost, many of which, having recently fallen, are 
bare of snow, contrasting grandly with the livid world 



MOUNTAINEERS' ENDURANCE OF FATIGUE. 397 



around, and having become shattered by their fall, here 
and there display marks of Nature's own processes, from 
the dark and silent ages of Creation, and reveal the won- 
drous history of her youth. 

It is now quite impossible to see where holes exist, and 
many a fall is the consequence ; but there would seem to 
be a special Providence over us, for no one gets seriously 
hurt. A few bruises and a little blood-shedding, to 
which we are all pretty well accustomed by this time, is 
the utmost extent of our injuries, I cannot speak in 
sufficient praise of these mountaineers, who, although 
natives of the country, have rarely if ever been to these 
altitudes at this inclement season of the year. They 
cannot but suffer greatly, yet they never complain ; diffi- 
culties, no matter how great they may be, seldom cause 
them to be even discontented ; they carry their loads 
over the roughest places, their feet often bleeding sorely, 
yet they plod on as cheerfully as possible notwithstand- 
ing. During the march to-day, F had several more 

falls, which created no small amusement ; they seem to 
regard it as especial fun to see either of the Sahib logue 
down. At last he fell so often that, in spite of its ap- 
pearing quite unpremeditated, I charged him with falling 
by deliberate intention, just to keep their spirits up. 

The stratification of Kinchinjunga and Pundeem — 
those mysterious and inaccessible summits, upon which 
no mortal tourist will ever tread, or human savanf plant 
his instruments — is very plainly discerned as we approach 



398 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

these mountains more closely, giving them all the appear- 
ance of fortifications for giant soldiery. In the dazzling 
sunlight, one could easily fancy them a shining fortress 
for the gods, so keen a resemblance do they bear to 
architectural design. How I marvel at the sculpture of 
these alps ! What gigantic columns and slender pilas- 
ters ! What noble buttresses ! Here a Doric gateway, 
there a tower, anon a stately temple behind battlements 
and castellated walls ; and I cannot help wondering how 
many ages it must have taken to wear away the solid 
rock, and fashion these superhuman edifices, than which 
nothing could be more deeply impressive. 

The sun, though shining feebly upon us, lights up 
the snowy peaks with a lustre that is almost painful to 
the eye, relieved however by the mass of purple rock 
below the line of congelation. This rock forms an 
almost perpendicular precipice of many thousand feet, 
scoured by watercourses, which have worn it away, and 
seamed and gashed it, as it were, into deep chasms and 
fissures. It is only at brief intervals that we are 
favoured with a view of these superb mountains on the 
march to-day. Now and then the clouds, which float 
between them and us, open for an instant, as if to let 
the glory through, and then, jealous of our longer gaze, 
veil them as before. For the present, we have altogether 
lost sight of the Snowy Range of Nepaul, it being hidden 
by high ridges which enclose our track ; but on catching a 
glimpse of it in one place, its lofty peaks presented an ap- 



pearance of icebergs, floating in a sea of mist, and then 
like a mirage all faded away. There is unquestionably 
something very ennobling in travelling amongst scenes 
like these and, to use our Baboo's words. ' To look on 
noble things, makes noble.' By the way, I have all along 
forgotten to say that this individual, having grown tired 

of roughing it, begged C to allow him to return to 

Darjeeling, failing to see the use of subjecting himself to 
so much inconvenience for a mere sentiment, and no 
doubt dreading besides to encounter these Arctic horrors, 
where It ' rains ice.' 

From this distance we can see that the summit of 
Kinchinjunga is not snow, like that of the lower peaks, 
but ice or white granite, or some glazed substance not at 
all unlike quartz. Beyond Kinchinjunga, it is said that 
there exists a vast mountain region, wholly uninhabitable 
for man or domestic animals. ' A silent region of death,' 
as Hatti expressed it, looking very mysterious, and open- 
ing his eyes very wide. 'Whoever goes there, Mem sahib, 
dies. Men cannot live there — yaks cannot live there — 
sheep cannot live there — nothing, nothing.' 

Much exhausted by the march, we halt at two o'clock, 
and with a few brambles which we collected as we came 
along, a scanty fire is made, and we reinvigorate ourselves 
with a cup of strong tea. The baggage coolies, too, 
following our example, light another fire hard by, and 
parch an ear or two of Indian corn, slaking their thirst by 
eating snow. Many of them are suffering from nausea 



400 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



and giddiness, and I experience still a difficulty of 
breathing, which disables me from making the smallest 
exertion ; but the gentlemen have not only recovered 
from their first experiences of elevation, but are so pro- 
vokingly well that it was almost a relief to overtake 

C , a short time before we halted, sitting on a stone, 

looking very wobegone, and having recourse to his 
pocket flask ! 

Our Guide, however, and most of the camp being in 
advance, we do not linger long ; but before starting on 




our march, I give Fanchyng another dose of quinine for 
her brother, a good supply of which our kind host placed 
at my disposal. 

Then onwards we wend our weary way, through ice 
and thickening snow, by dark caves formed of fallen rock, 
walled in by icicles, which in some instances extending to 



THE LAND OF ICE. 4PI 



the ground appear like crystal columns. Into these caves 
the coolies crawl occasionally by twos and threes, to rest 
awhile beneath their shelter, where, seated in their bright 
many-coloured garments, they remind one of a fairy tale 
or Christmas pantomime. 

What a stranofe world is this world of ice ! The 
solemn stillness in the air, and all around us, how oppres- 
sive to the spirit ! The feeling, too, seems to be con- 
tagious ; for my bearers, as well as the rest of our camp, 
pursue their way silently, wholly unlike their usual man- 
ner. No sound is heard but a shout from F , now 

and again, to assure me he is not far distant ; and when 
this dies away, the silence and desertion seem only 
greater than before. It is the silence of non-existence, 
very awful when one paused to think about it. 

' Go back to Darjeeling, Mem sahib,' exclaim my poor 
tired dandy-wallahs, as they carry me along. ' This is a 
cold, hungry country. No rice, no bhoota, no birds ; 
nothing to eat here : we shall all be starved.' 

Upon which I try to explain to them, that by return- 
ing now we should be endangering their lives, as it seems 
pretty plain that the Kajee does not mean to send us 
food as he promised, while, by persevering in our march 
to Yangpoong, we have every reason to believe we shall 
find it there. Well would it have been, however, had 
.we taken their advice there and then ! 

Thousands of feet below us, and extending many a 
weary mile, lies a valley of desolation. It is like some 

3 F 



402 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

nether world. Rock upon rock, tempest-shattered, riven 
and spHt into fantastic and unearthly shapes, may be seen 
standing one upon another; pines, torn up by their roots, 
lie prostrate and half hidden beneath them, like sleeping 
mammoths and primaeval monsters ; whilst the giddy 
height from which we scanned them, favouring the Ideal, 
lent mystery to the scene, and, rendering Form indefinite, 
gave fuller play to the imagination. Truly those who 
love Nature in her wild and savage aspects should come 
here ; for a grander combination of these qualities cannot 
be conceived — the snowy peak, the ice-bound rock, the 
blasted pine, and the deadly precipice. 

A mist had been shutting out the north for some 
considerable time — one of those little silvery cloudlets, 
that we are wont to admire so much from Darjeeling, 
and which float so lazily across the face of the snows ; 
but which, on closer acquaintance, reveal themselves in 
their true character, as dense leaden vapour, many miles 
m extent, saturating every fold of your garments, and 
chilling the very life-blood in your veins. Yet rob this 
mountain region of its mist, and it will lack one of its 
noblest elements. Watch it as it sails gently over the 
face of that nearer mountain yonder, enveloping it as in 
a soft white veil. Watch it again, ascending from the 
depths in angry clouds, wreathing, writhing, and curving 
into every fantastic form, wrapping up the mountains as 
in a death shroud, or hooding them like cloistered nuns. 

At length it opens, and displays Kubra straight 



THE LAND OF ICE. 403 



ahead of us, in all its crystalline loveliness and silver 
fretwork, cutting its ruorged way into the very heavens : 
its outline is but slightly altered on nearer approach. 
Behind it rises Junnoo, flanked by smaller peaks ; but 
these, though above the line of perpetual congelation, 
are only partially covered with snow, portions of purplish- 
brown rock peering through it here and there. Amongst 
them I recognised that singularly flat mountain, so like 
an inverted bowl, which lies to the left of Junnoo, and 
which seems but a molehill when seen from Darjeeling. 

At this point we came upon the footprints of some 
large animal, probably those of the snow-bear, animals 
which are said to inhabit this elevation, but which do 
not cross our path, no doubt being frightened away by 
our numbers. 

The cold had not seemed half so intense on this 
day's march as on that of many previous ones, in con- 
sequence of the perfect stillness in the air. The very 
.winds themselves seem to be frozen up in their four 
quarters; and, when this is the case, it is often difficult to 
realise the lowness of the temperature. Nor could we 
have even imagined it, had we not seen that hot water 
in our tents became a solid lump of ice in the space of 
a few minutes. 

The baggage coolies who were yesterday suffering 
from the rarefaction of the atmosphere are better, whilst 
those who have borne up bravely until now have suc- 
cumbed at last, and are very ill. Several were seized 



404 



THE INDIAN AIFS. 



with sickness on the march, and all are so thoroughly 
tired and worn out, that we should certainly, were it pos- 
sible, determine upon halting here to-morrow, to give 
them a day's rest, which one and all so sorely need ; 
but, with famine staring us in the face, we dare not delay, 
and must push on to Yangpoong, which the Guide assures 
us, notwithstanding my little dandy-bearer's warning, we 
shall reach, all being well, to-morrow afternoon. 

Fanchyng is complaining of symptoms of fever — 
* tup' as they call it — but her brother is better, his attack 
having yielded, as it generally will do, to large doses of 
quinine. I am obliged, therefore, once more to have re- 
course to C 's medicine chest on her account, having 

exhausted the supply he first gave me. Catoo also 

comes begging for some of F 's decoction ; but rum 

growing scarce, we give him tea instead, of which all 
these people are very fond. 

No rice whatever is now left in camp, three sheep and 
a small quantity of Indian corn being the only food we 
have to depend upon ; but this we hope will keep them 
alive until succour come. All the poor fellows, however, 
are put upon famine diet, with the exception of Tendook's 
retinue, all of whom, we shrewdly suspect, are in rather 
better plight. 



INCREASING ANXIETY. 405 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

WE GET INTO DIFFICULTIES. 

Struck tents this morning as soon as we could arouse 
our poor weary people, who lay huddled together under 
the rocks, each with his blanket round him, and often a 
stone for his pillow. 

The messengers we sent to Yangting so long ago 
have neither overtaken us with supplies of food, nor fol- 
lowed us with tidings as to why the Kajee has so 
miserably failed us. Great and hourly increasing de- 
pression, therefore, reigns in camp, and the poor coolies 
have lost all their natural exuberance of spirits. We 
are besides very unfortunate in the weather, which adds 
not a little to our discouragement. A great deal of 
mist is hanging about the higher ridges — a very inaus- 
picious thing for our march through deeper snow, which 
we shall have to encounter to-day on the heights. I 

take care this time not to go on in advance of F , 

but keep near him, our attendants and ourselves forming 
one continuous line. 

For a considerable distance we passed beneath a moun- 
tain, which effectually shut out the west as with a tremen- 



4o6 



THE INDIAN AIFS. 




dous battlemented wall ; down the side of which we saw 
a frozen cataract, whose waters, gradually congealing as 
they fell, had formed themselves into icy shafts and 
columns, clearly distinguishable even at this distance, 
fully a mile away. 

We now begin to ascend the steep face of a mountain, 
following carefully the footsteps of our Guide, and zig-zag- 

ing to render it 
less steep. Heavy 
masses of vapour 
continually roll past, 
now enveloping us 
completely, and 
then dispersing for 
awhile, affording 
glimpses of clear 
blue sky, which 
helped to raise the 
spirits of us all, 
giving hope of a 
bright day for the 
remainder of the 
march. At length 
it dissolved entirely, and the sun showed himself, a well- 
defined disc of mellow fire, out of the darkest blue sky I 
ever beheld, for at this elevation the azure becomes almost 
purple in its intensity ; and then Junnoo, clad in his 
glittering mantle, the one object above us, towered ma- 




yUNNOO. 407 

jestically heavenwards. How wonderfully near it looked ! 
We could even see the crystals sparkling in the sunshine, 
and I felt more than ever, with Alpine pictures in my 
memory, how utterly impossible it is for human hand to 
represent, as it is for mortal speech to express, the purity 
and loveliness of snow. 

Not only were we ourselves elated by the glorious 
sight, but our men also ; and the fact that we had at last 
reached the snowy range we had travelled so many weary 
miles to visit, sent a thrill of satisfaction through our 
hearts. The novelty of the scene, too, seemed for 
awhile to make us all forgetful of the one great anxiety. 
Moreover, were we not to reach Yangpoong at the end 
of the day's march, and be within reach of food ? 

Being now in very deep snow, we have to be careful 
to follow the footsteps of our Guide, and of the goodly 
number of coolies who have preceded us, lest by forming 
a new track, or even one contiguous to it, we inad- 
vertently mislead the remainder of our camp, and cause 
them to lose their way — by no means an improbable 
result should the mist again surround us. 

A little further climb, and we find ourselves on the 
summit of an extensive and slightly concaved plateau, 
hemmed in on all sides by small snow-clad peaks, through 
which jagged portions of madder-tinted gneiss are visible, 
and over which the unsullied Junnoo, its head now 
shrouded in mist, reigns supreme. As far as eye can 
reach stretches one livid field of snow, so vast that we 



4o8 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

feel quite lost amidst it, the colourless waste apparently 
seeming interminable ; yet not colourless either, for each 
undulation along our pathway casts its pale blue shadow, 
sharp and well-defined, and there are exquisite grada- 
tions of light and shade everywhere, to rob it of ab- 
solute monotony. 

Across this plain we march quickly, for, the snow 
being deep, all irregularities of surface are smoothed over, 
and it is too hard to clog the feet. What an exhilarating 
sight it is, to watch the coolies with their loads hurrying 
along in single file ! — their various and many-coloured 
costumes contrasting strongly and vividly with the white 
world around, against which they stand out in bold relief; 
whilst at almost every instant, some amusing adventure 
occurs, to call forth peals of laughter from Nautch-wallah 
and the merry Lepchas, and in fact from the whole party. 
Now one man falling, hammers the ice with his head, the 
/ ^\^--~-^^;y/ ^ ,, j^^ ^^x, ^ contents of his basket 
^''^' ■■'■' ^^'^ ■ "~- --'' scattering themselves 

hither and thither in 
every direction. Now 
another is seen idio- 
tically sliding for- 
wards, endeavouring 
to clutch the air to 
save himself, and of 
course failing in his endeavours, with the usual result. 
Then Tendook himself, walking solemnly and sedately 




by my side, is suddenly seen to submerge, as he falls into 
a hole, where nothing is seen of him but his head, pigtail, 
and little round Chinese cap with its scarlet top-knot, and 
whence he has to be dragged out, unhurt I am thankful 
to say, but with no small difficulty. 

We now begin to lament bitterly the loss of our dark 
glasses, the light reflected from the snow already affect- 
ing our eyes most painfully. Some of the baggage coolies, 
I observe, are provided with these necessary preserva- 
tives of the sight, wearing spectacles made of yak's hair 
finely plaited. 

The elevation also is again beginning to tell upon 

some of us. A little further on and we overtake C , 

who, sitting down in a state of utter collapse, is appa- 
rently suffering from vertigo. I, too, have a return of 
palpitation of the heart and laboured breathing ; others 
feel intense pain in the head, attended with nausea ; but 

F , with the exception of feeling very tired, seems 

happily quite himself. 

Hitherto the glare had not been at all greater than 
we had anticipated; but soon we were enveloped by a 
semi-transparent mist, through which the sun, like a ball 
of fire, could be distinctly recognised. The light became 
so intolerably dazzling as we proceeded, that we could 
neither see before nor around us. The very atmosphere 
itself seemed to vibrate and be composed of floating 
spiculae of snow — glittering atoms, through which the sun 
appeared a great scorching eye, most painful to gaze upon. 

3 G 



41 o THE INDIAN ALPS. 



The effect of the glare upon our sight was greater 
now than I have power to describe, and the effort of keep- 
ing the eyes open such torture, that they were streaming 
with enforced tears. Had there been but a particle of 
blue sky, we might have found relief, but this dazzling 
mist which enclosed us, seemed but to serve as a corra- 
diation for the sun. We had all, of course, heard of snow- 
blindness; but anything so distressingly painful to the 
sight as this we never had imagined. The poor coolies, 
who had not provided themselves with spectacles, taking 
off part of their clothing, now cover their eyes, and lunge 
along almost blindfold. Following their example, we do 
likewise, only uncovering the eyes now and again, to 
assure ourselves we are in the right track ; then for one 
instant only can we discern the baggage coolies in ad- 
vance, and all is darkness as before. At length a time 
came when we could not see our way at all, and Ten- 
dook, who was near us, having called a halt, Catoo 
stooped his head almost to the ground as he endea- 
voured to discover whether there were any footprints in 
advance of us ; but to our dismay he declared there were 
none, and it consequently became but too manifest, that 
we had deviated from the right track. 

It was an anxious moment; but, after some search, the 
path was traced by marks of blood in the snow, which 
some poor fellow whose feet the ice must have sorely 
cut had left behind. We, therefore, retrace our steps for 
a short distance, and, opening my eyes for a moment, I 



SNO ]V-BUNDNESS. 



4xt 



recogriise our host being led by one of the coohes, over- 
come with bhndness as well as vertigo. 

Not a little discouraging was it to find him — the 
strongest of our trio, on whom we one and all so greatly 
depended — give in thus ; but had this fearful state of 
things lasted much longer, we must all have thrown our- 







selves down upon the snow, and awaited our fate, the sight 
of each becoming worse and worse every instant. We 
were rapidly losing even the momentary glimpses of sur- 
rounding objects which we had had previousl}^ almost 
total blindness seizing us for the time being. At length my 
bearers, declaring themselves too blind and giddy to carry 
me, set me and my dandy on the ground, without further 
ceremony. But, happily, just as we were beginning to 



despair of being able to proceed on our journey, the mist 
began floating away, and, to our inexpressible relief, the 
sky showed itself above as an opaque and vast purple 
dome overshadowing us. 

Then gradually, and by slow degrees, we regained 
our sight. One by one distant objects became visible, the 
sombre purple affording incalculable rest to the eye ; and 
we now find that we have almost traversed the snow-field, 
and that a steep ridge of black rock is shutting us in 
northwards, and, oh joy ! beneath this, we recognise our 
Guide and advanced party awaiting us. 

Anything like the intense relief this rock afforded us, 
wearied as we were with the field of glistening white, can- 
not be conceived by those who have not similarly suffered. 
It was truly like the 'shadow of a great rock in a weary 
land,' and I doubt whether this beautiful simile, so often 
made use of, was ever so applicable even to travellers in 
the scorching desert as to us at that moment, whilst the 
feeling of security, in once more finding ourselves in the 
presence of our Guide, was scarcely less inspiriting. On 
reaching this spot, we climbed the ridge, and found we 
were standing on what appeared to be a gigantic snow- 
drift, the snow which had blown hither for ages having 
lodged against the rock, until it had become almost as 
hard as adamant itself. 

It was a sight worth immortalising in deeper tablets 
than those, alas ! of memory, and one which an artist would 
have gone far to paint. The trackless wastes of snow 



'THE SHADOW OF A GREAT ROCK: 413 

throwing into relief the picturesque figures, some of whom 
were standing in groups, whilst others reclined upon their 
loads. There is an unconstraint and natural grace in all 
Orientals, whether dwellers in the plains or hardy moun- 
taineers, and they often pose themselves in attitudes which 
are perfectly statuesque, of the beauty and dignity of which 
they are themselves, of course, wholly unconscious, but 
which makes one long to tarry and portray them. 

Here we rest awhile, and C , now quite himself 

again, tries to dilute some cognac with snow for the general 
benefit ; but, instead of its becoming amenable to our ne- 
cessities, and melting as we naturally expected it would 
do, it refuses to liquefy, and instantly transforms the 
spirit into a solid lump of ice ! Whilst halting we try to 
gauge the depth of the snow with our alpenstocks, which 
are seven feet long, but do not succeed in reaching the 
bottom of it ; we also make some deep holes, and the colour 
of the snow, on looking into them, is that of the most per- 
fectly exquisite and liquid azure it is possible to conceive. 

The order to resume the march being now given, 
the coolies take up their loads, and the Guide, looking 
more sinister and Mephistophelean than ever, precedes 
us. A steep ridge has to be descended on the other side. 

This descent Tendook and C resolve to accomplish 

by sliding down like two schoolboys, an example followed 
by many of the baggage coolies, with various results ; 
whilst others, rashly attempting a glissade, get over- 
balanced by their loads, and may be seen in all directions 



tumbUng head over heels to the bottom of the descent, 
where they are eventually picked up more frightened 
than hurt, but with a complete dislodgment of the con- 
tents of their baskets. My dandy, however, is ingeniously 
converted by Catoo into a kind of sledge for my behoof ; 

but F , as an old and experienced Alpine traveller, 

wisely decides to do the thing scientifically or not at ail, 
and, planting his alpenstock firmly in the ground, deter- 
mines upon descending by a series of dignified leaps. Hatti 
had just given my sledge an impetus, and I was proceed- 
ing in my downward 
career as satisfac- 
torily as could be 
desired, when half 
way I caught sight 
of F , who, be- 
nevolently turning 
round, bade me ' hold 
on ' whatever I did. 
But the effort proved 
too much for him. 
He first made one 
desperate and agonis- 
ing grab at the snow, 
then felt for some 
mysterious hand in 
mid- air to save him, and heeled over, reaching the end 
of the declivity in a more rapid manner than he had 




•*4igt. 



-■**=^ 



tltir?^ 



f 






I, 



..*ji£ 



■Mi^^»&., 




anticipated ; whereupon, once safely landed, I made a 
pencil sketch of him, which, out of regard to his wishes, 
I forbear to introduce here — a waste of genius, for which 
he is wholly responsible ! 

Then journeying on over the same kind of snow- 
field out of which rise jagged peaks a few hundred 
feet above us, and which hem us in completely, I can- 
not help mentioning to F , who is walking by my 

side, that this seems quite unlike what we imagined the 
approach would be to Yangpoong, which is a yak station, 
about the height of Singaleelah; here, on the contrary, 
we seem surrounded by perpetual snow. He, too, says 
he has been marvelling, and that we seem rather to be 
travelling right in the midst of the splintered snow- 
covered rocks, above the line of congelation, which lie 
at the west base of Junnoo, and which from Darjeeling 
appear like the uneven teeth of some animal. There was 
another circumstance also that struck us as very extraordi- 
nary, viz. when we began the ascent this morning, Junnoo 
was not only close above us, but we were slightly to 
its left — that is to say, west of it rather than east — in which 
latter direction we imagined we should have to journey 

to reach Yangpoong. Major Shirwill's map is in C 's 

possession, but no doubt hidden in the depths of some 
portmanteau, for since we had been under the leadership of 
a guide, we had hardly consulted it, trusting him implicitly. 

Following the camp in single file — for we are too 
far behind C to talk with him on the subject — we 



41 6 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

are once more shrouded in mist, and this time the sun 
entirely disappears. Still we plod on, wondering if we 
shall ever begin to descend to the long-wished-for Yang- 
poong, when suddenly there is a halt called from the 

front, and overtaking C we learn, to our horror, that 

the line of men who went on in advance of us is 
nowhere to be seen. 

Accustomed to call each other from mountain to 
mountain, these nomad tribes have a peculiar and pro- 
longed cry, that may be heard from a great distance 
— this they now sustain for a considerable time ; but still 
no response reached us from our missing people. Again 
another shout, louder than the first, followed by a breath- 
less silence, and then the unwelcome conclusion forced 
itself upon our minds that we must have wandered con- 
siderably from the track. 

A proposition was then made to fire a gun, trusting 
that its report might reach them as a signal of distress, 
and induce them to return to our help. Accordingly 
C , advancing some paces, fired his rifle in the direc- 
tion which we believed they must have taken, although 
it was more than possible that we had lost our bearings 
entirely by this time. 

At the same moment the brave Tendook, penetrating 
the mist, went off himself to endeavour to find the track. 
Most of the coolies laden with tents and stores happened 
to be amongst the number of those in advance, and the 
harrowing thought at once suggested itself to our minds 



that if they had also lost their way, and we ourselves 
managed to reach our destination in safety, we should 
be in a sad plight, without either food or shelter in these 
dreary wilds. 

I do not know how long we remained in this terrible 
suspense, for one cannot estimate such periods by time, 
which loses all proportion when one is tormented by 
such agonising fears, and when each moment seems to 
stretch into a whole lifetime. Thoughts of what mio-ht 
be our fate came crowding thick and fast, every possi- 
bility rising before us. ^X. length w^e heard the muffled 
sound of voices, and the shadowy form of Tendook 
appeared, bearing the cheering news that our Guide and 
party were returning ; and the little spectral band were 
soon visible through the darkling mist. 

Once at our side, we ascertained that, having lost all 
sight of us, they were already endeavouring to retrace 
their steps when the report of the rifle reached them ; 
but our joy and relief, alas ! were doomed to be but of 
short duration, for they gave us the discouraging intelli- 
gence that our Guide knew no more in what direction 
the village of Yangpoong lay than we did ourselves ! 

At this announcement, cutting off as it did the possi- 
bility of our reaching that place upon which we had set 
our longing hearts for so many weary days, a panic 
seized the whole camp. The Lepchas, relieving them- 
selves of their loads, sank down upon the snow, and 
burying their faces in their hands in mute despair, 

3 H 



4i8 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



appeared to have given themselves up as utterly lost In a 
way that was very heart-rending to witness. 

Not so the Bhootias, however, most of whom stood 
erect in excited groups, with looks bold and defiant, 
talking together, but not low enough to prevent our 
hearing that they were blaming us for having brought 
them hither, ' where,' as they said, ' they must starve and 
die,' not seeming to realise that we ourselves were in the 
like danger. Nor did they hesitate to imply that we had 
purposely so brought them ; whilst the impulsive and 
child-like Nautch-wallah, standing apart from the rest, 
lifted up his voice and wept. 




INCREASING DIFFICULTIES. 419 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

LOST IN THE ABODE OF SNOW. 

At that moment we were completely in their power, and, 
had they chosen, the whole camp might have broken out 
into open mutiny. As for ourselves, we felt like ship- 
wrecked mariners in an ocean of snow ; but neither gave 
utterance to the fears which possessed him, as, having 
summoned Tendook, whom we feel to be quite one with 
us in this terrible emergency, we took solemn council 
totjether as to the best thino- to be done. 

'Are you sure you don't at all know where we are ?' 

enquired C of the Guide, whom he summoned to our 

side. 

' We are now in the district of Yangpoong, Sahib,' 
he replied ; ' but in this mist I cannot take you farther, for 
I know not in what direction the village lies.' 

It was then suggested that several detachments of 
coolies should be sent down the hollows, in different 
directions, to ascertain whether any camping ground 
could be found, where wood might be obtained ; but this 
was soon discarded as extremely dangerous. The coolies 
might fall over precipices, and the risk to their lives was 



420 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

far too great to justify our subjecting them to it, even 
were it probable — which it was not — that a place of the 
kind could be found sufficiently near to enable them to 
return with the intelligence before nightfall. 

It was then proposed that we should encamp where 
we were ; but this proposition was as quickly dismissed 
as the previous one. Not a particle of wood was obtain- 
able, and without fires we must all have become frozen 
before morning. Moreover, it was very doubtful whether 
tent-pegs could be made to hold in the snow ; and besides 
all these discouraging considerations, it seemed to be 
threatening for a snowstorm. There was that peculiar 
feeling in the atmosphere which usually precedes snow in 
lower elevations ; and if it should come, and our track 
hither were obliterated, we might wander for days over 
these mountains without food or shelter, and must inevit- 
ably perish. 

The suggestion therefore of halting here was, for 
various reasons, at once abandoned. Very palpable signs 
of insubordination were beginning to manifest themselves, 
not only amongst the Bhootias, but the Nepaulese also, 
to which we dare not shut our eyes, whilst the Lepchas 
were taken possession of by those notions of fatalism, 
which render them quite powerless in times of danger. 

These symptoms more than aught else determined 
us upon taking decided action of some sort ; and whilst 
F , C , and Tendook were parleying on the feasi- 
bility of our pushing on, with the hope of getting out of 



INSUBORDINATION. 421 

the mist, and once more ascertaining our bearings or 
remaining in our present position awhile, trusting to its 
clearing away, I realised the situation and all its terrors. 
I felt that not an instant should be lost. To travel 
further into the lonely heart of these mountains with the 
mere possibility of discovering our whereabouts, or lin- 
of-erino- where we were on the miserable chance of the 
mist clearing, would alike be running a tremendous risk. 
What if it should not clear ? What if, in the event of 
its doing so, our Guide — in whom we have now lost all 
confidence — were unable after all to indicate the direc- 
tion of Yangpoong ? It would be too late then to retrace 
our steps whilst daylight lasts. With a woman's natural 
instinct I believe I arrived at the only safe course to 
pursue. 

' Let us return at once ; don't hesitate for a moment,' 
I cried, stamping the snow with my foot in my vehe- 
mence. ' It is the only thing to save us.' 

After a few moments' solemn and earnest consulta- 
tion — there w?s no time for more, . for evening was 
approaching — they yielded willingly to my proposal ; 
the men were informed that we proposed retracing our 
steps, and encamping at the very first place where we 
could discover wood. It was truly a neck-or-nothing 
kind of thing to do ; we had come thus far in quest of 
food, and were now to relinquish all hope of finding it. 
At that moment, however, we could hardly heed the 
future, the present was all we dared to contemplate. 



42 2 THE INDIAN A IPS, 

Vox one instant a terrible pang shot through me. 
Was I destined to be the means of bringing sorrow on 
others ? / would come : these three words pierced my 
very soul like a red-hot iron. Had I been less anxious 
the expedition would not have been undertaken at all. 

I thought of C 's wife and his little children ; I 

thought too of my mother and her letter of warning, on 
being informed of our proposed tour : — ' I dread your 
travelling in a mountain region so little known to Euro- 
peans, and so far removed from civilisation. Do not 
attempt too much, and, above all, avoid the many dangers 
to which you will be exposed by travelling in the region 
of perpetual snow. Rest satisfied with the lower levels. 
I think you are rash in attempting to explore so vast and 
unknown a country.' 

The announcement of our decision was received in 
various ways : by some few, with signs of satisfaction, by 
others with surly and ill-suppressed mutterings, but one 
and all seemed unwilling to resume their loads. We had 
been leading them on, day after day, with the assurance 
that at Yangpoong they would find sustenance ; it was 
no wonder, therefore, tired and disappointed as they 
were, they should lose pluck and even confidence in our 
words, and we felt that nothing we could now say would 
inspire them with hope for the future. 

The gentle Lepchas remained in the same position, 
scarcely lifting their heads when this last proposition 
was made. In common with Mahomedans and Hindoos, 



JVE RETRACE OUR STEPS. 423 

they entertain a blind belief in kismut (fate), and having 
once made up their minds that a thing is inevitable, 
they will endure it with an indifference that is perfectly 
stoical ; but there was fearful despair written in some 
countenances notwithstanding, and it needed all the 
energy and decision we could muster, and every argu- 
ment we could think of, to imbue them with the courage 
necessary for beginning another weary and hopeless 
march. 

Wandering in and out amongst the groups of baggage 
coolies, with my own hands I helped some to lift their 
loads, endeavouring at the same time to arouse others 
who had relapsed into a state of lethargy, trying to speak 
words of comfort and encouragement to all ; feeling that 
if /, a woman, set the example of exertion, there was 
enough chivalry existing in the hearts of these poor 
ignorant creatures to make them not only obey but help 
me. F , C , and Tendook, meanwhile, by exer- 
cise of authority, were doing their share amongst the 
Bhootias and Nepaulese, which answers far better with 
these tribes than simple persuasion, and in ten minutes' 
time every load was resumed, and their faces turned in 
the direction whence we had come. 

Then followed a scene of such dire confusion as I 
shall never forget. Some of the more reckless and head- 
strong of the coolies began rushing madly forwards, quite 

regardless of the track. But C , alive to the danger 

this threatened, was in pursuit in an instant ; whilst Ten- 



424 THE INDIAN ALPS, 

dook, whose voice was so seldom heard, now loudly and 
sternly commanded them to remain stationary until 
everyone should be ready for the start. All were then 

made to advance in single file, C heading the camp, I 

coming in the middle, the faithful Tendook by my side, 

and F bringing up the rear. Feeling something 

like the force of military discipline, they now became 
more orderly ; but it was not without violent efforts, and 
alternate scolding and encouragement, that we succeeded 
in urging the poor footsore fellows onwards with their 
burdens, from the weight of which, in their weakened 
state, many seemed to be sinking. In several places, 
too, our path was made sadly conspicuous by marks of 
blood, as they plodded slowly along. 

Although suffering greatly from difficulty of breath- 
ing, I tried to make light of everything, bidding them 
remember that if / were not despairing for the future, 
they who were men should not be so either. With the 
same purpose I made the mountains echo with many an 
assumed laugh, at every little adventure by the way, in 
which even the Lepchas who were near me, forgetful of 
all for the moment but their love of fun, tried to join. 
By such small subterfuges did we strive to relieve the 
tedium of the march ; but they were, after all, such a sorry 
and sepulchral counterfeit, that we soon relinquished 
them, for they only seemed to relapse into greater sad- 
ness than before. How completely sanguine we had been 
on starting in the morning ! but how had all changed ! 



JF£ ARE CHEERED B V THE SIGHT OF THE ROCK. 425 

Our day-star of hope had given place to an evening of 
utter despair. 

At length, as we went on, the mist grew less dense, 
and yonder, straight ahead of us, about two miles dis- 
tant, we recognised the rock beneath which we halted 
on our way hither, thrice an oasis in our desert now, for 
we thereby not only knew that we had not mistaken the 
track, but that being once reached, we should be within 
a very few miles of our last camping-place. I shouted 

to F behind me, but he had already caught sight of 

it himself, and there ran a murmur of general satisfaction 
through the whole length of our long line. It was like 
an electric shock, and had the poor fellows been less 
weary and sorrow-stricken, I feel sure they would have 
got up some kind of cheer. 

To the phlegmatic Tendook I exclaimed, *We are 
saved!' But he, less impulsive than I, after a short 
pause, deliberately, and as I thought sorrowfully, replied, 
in the concise and epigrammatic style of all these Eastern 
people, yism fdnl aur ruh baki hai, mem sahib (' The 
body is mortal, the soul is immortal '), as though he would 
reprove me for my want of consideration, that although, in 
all probability, we were saved from perishing in the snow, 
yet so long as we were without reasonable expectation of 
obtaining food, we could not in truth say that we were 
really saved. 

The welcome sight afforded by the ' great rock ' gave 
renewed courage to our men. On reaching it a brief 




426 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



halt was made, whilst F scaled it to its summit, 

whence the almost entire portion of our march could be 
traced, as well as the vast snowy plateau on either side, 
endeavouring to discover by the aid of his field-glass 
whether anyone had been left behind. 

Then once again the signal for resuming the march was 
given, followed by the heavy ' tramp ' of our wretched 
men, broken only by the half-suppressed groans and 




sighs they occasionally uttered ; and there was some- 
thing intensely affecting in the sight of the baggage 
coolies tottering under their loads, but, above all, in the 
silence and gravity with which they maintained the 
march, 

A descent now lay before us the whole way, and we 
were able to quicken our pace ; the twilight being con- 



siderably lengthened fortunately by the reflexion from 
the surrounding snow. Suddenly a halt was made by 

some men a few yards in advance of me, and F 

hastening to the spot, ascertained that one of the party 
had discovered footprints diverging from the track 
formed by the upward march, evidently those of some- 
one retracing his steps. 

In another hour, by which time darkness had almost 
set in, even in these northern snow-girt latitudes, we 
came to anchor in the same place in which we encamped 
last night. This point safely reached, the necessity for 
bearing up no longer existed, and unnerved by the physical 
and mental strain to which I had been so long sub- 
jected, I completely gave way. Suffering from excrucia- 
ting pain in the head, I sat down on a stone and leant for 
rest on one of the coolies' baskets, whilst C , fetch- 
ing a bottle of chloroform, saturated a handkerchief with 
it and placed it across my forehead and temples. By this 
time my eyes were so inflamed by the reflexion from the 
snow that I could scarcely see at all, and the eyelids 
were greatly swollen also. 

Tired as he was, F assisted the men in pitching 

tents, and then, before taking any refreshment himself, 
he served out, regardless of the future, a double portion 
of undiluted rum to each man, offering some to Tendook 
also for his retinue, which he declined, the greater number 
of them being Nepaulese, who, as Hindoos, neither 
eat meat, nor take any fermented drink whatever. He 



428 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



was not, however, above accepting a modicum for him- 
self, being in the habit of taking, for his oft infirmities, 
a Httle ' fire-water ' which, from ' motives of dehcacy,' he 
kept in a champagne-bottle, to which I had often seen 
him have recourse on the march, when worn-out nature 

needed support. Neither did C forget the graver 

necessities of our poor attendants, but ordered another 
sheep to be killed, which would afford, supposing an 
equal division were made, about a quarter of a pound of 
nourishment to each man ; and there are now but two 
sheep and a few handfuls of Indian corn standing between 
our camp and absolute starvation ! 






PM A? i-J^ . ^' ■ ' / ' ' 'I 




^JPoc-t prints . 



IVjE miss one of our people. 429 



CHAPTER XL. 

WE MISS ONE OF OUR PEOPLE. 

We had retired for the night, and were fast asleep, when 
we were suddenly aroused by footsteps outside the tent, 

and a voice calling to us ; upon which F going out 

discovered Fanchyng and her husband, the former crying 
bitterly. They had missed her little brother, and had 
been searching throughout the camp, but he was no- 
where to be found. Neither could anyone remember 
having seen him after we halted at the rock on our 
upward march, where Catoo recollected helping him to 
lift his load. On hearing this, I instantly dressed and 
went out. 

' Have you told the burr a Sahib ? ' enquired F , 

meaning of course C . 

'No,' was the reply. ' I came straight here.' 

' I will go and call him,' I cried, feeling that he ought 
to know the lad was missing. 

' Stay ! ' cried F , seizing my arm, * he is asleep 

by this time. It can do no good to waken him. We 
are up already, and can do all that can be done ; he has 
need of rest, and it is well at any rate that one of us should 



430 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

get it, and be prepared for the morrow's anxiety and 
fatigue. Leave him undisturbed.' 

' But go and arouse Catoo and Hatti,' said he, 
addressing Nimboo, 'and tell them to come here; but 
take care not to disturb any of the rest ; ' for most of 
the poor fellows were sleeping the sleep of the weary by 
this time. 

When they had obeyed the summons, F told 

them that wood must be collected at once, and a fire 
made on high ground, above our camping place, and 
kept burning all night, to attract, if possible, the attention 
of the poor fellow and lead him towards us in case he 
were still alive ; for to have gone on a search in the 
darkness would have been utterly useless. As to his 
being left behind in the snow we entertained no great 
fears, having been careful to ascertain on starting that 
none were in the rear. Moreover, had he lingered 

behind, F must have descried him from the summit 

of the rock, whence he would have appeared as a dark 
object on the snow, even if too distant to be recognised, 
and he distinctly remembers that nothing whatever was 
visible on our line of march. Then the footprints of 
some one, apparently retracing his steps, gave us hope 
that for some unaccountable reason he may have re- 
turned to some place or other below the region of snow, 
and with this idea I tried to comfort Fanchyng, who 
had given herself up to uncontrollable grief. 

Drawing her gently into the tent, I kept her with me, 



THE WATCH-FIRE. 43 ^ 



while F" , followed by Catoo, Hatti, and Nimboo — the 

latter carrying a lantern, — went to find the highest point 
near the encampment upon which to make the fire ; and 
it was not very long before its flame was seen, all fog by 
this time having disappeared, the stars too shining clearly. 
There was no lack of small wood lying about in this 
sheltered hollow, belonging to a stunted and hardy kind 
of rhododendron, as well as that of leafless brambles half 
buried in the snow ; and they heaped it up until the blaze 
could have been distinguished miles away in this clear 
atmosphere, and barren lifeless land. 

Determining upon keeping Fanchyng with me all the 
night, I forthwith rigged up the dhurrie, and divided the 
tent in two, in the inner partition of which I made an 
impromptu bed for the poor sorrowing girl. She had a 
great deal of fever about her still, and was seized with 
alternate fits of shivering and feverishness, naturally 
increased by her intense anxiety and distress of mind. 
Believing a cup of hot tea would do her good, I boiled 
some water in my little etna, our stoves not having been 
lighted .at the end of this day's march, neither of us 
having had the heart to ask the poor tired coolies to cut 
the necessary wood for the purpose. 

Presently F , having told off several of our men to 

watch through the hours of darkness and prevent the fire 
from waning, came down to sleep awhile ; but I could see 
from his restlessness that he could not bear to shut him- 
self up in his own snug tent, whilst the poor lad was he 



knew not where. He remained only about half an 
hour ; and then saying he thought he heard a shout like 
that of someone calling at a distance, hastened up again, 
promising to return as soon as he had ascertained. 

He was not long away ; but to Fanchyng and myself, 
hungering for tidings below, a whole lifetime of suspense 
seemed to be compressed within the short interval of his 
absence ; and by his silence, which was more significant 
than words, we knew that his quest had been unavailing. 
He then left us again, saying he would watch the fire 
with the men. 

Covering Fanchyng up more warmly, I tried to induce 
her to sleep a little. The tea had evidently done her 
good, she seemed less feverish and more composed, so I 
left her, for worn out by her sorrow she appeared inclined 
to sleep; and throwing myself upon my own mattress, I 
was soon asleep also, only awaking for a moment or 

two when F came in, about two hours later, and 

then in my great weariness of body and mind I fell 
soundly off again. 

About two o'clock I too fancied I heard someone 

calling from afar. I did not awaken F , feeling only 

too thankful to find him sleeping and gathering strength 
for the morrow's fatigue, for we know not now what a 
morrow will bring forth. 

Fully dressed, and simply throwing my fur hood over 
my head and a warm rug around me, I determined to go 
out and see for myself; but peeping through a small slit 



'TO THE UNKNOWN god: 433 



in the ' kernaiights ' to ascertain whether Fanchyng still 
slept, great was my surprise to find her kneeling by the 
side of a small heap of stones. She must have crept 
out silently and gathered these stones while I slept. In 
the centre some sticks hung with bits of worsted of 
different colours were placed, and she was praying I could 
see, she looked at once so earnest and so true. A leaf 
from one of the books which I had seen the Buddhists 
use was lying by her side. It was probably taken from 
a charm-box she always wore, but her face was upturned 
now, praying as it seemed half unconsciously, for her 
lips did not move. The people of her creed sit and 
pray ; but she had assumed the natural attitude of in- 
tense and earnest supplication. 

One's perceptions become painfully keen in hours of 
suspense and sorrow, and the nervous system so greatly on 
the stretch, that one is more alive, as it were, to external 
impressions, the faintest sound making us start as though 
the very air which rustles the objects around us bore 
tidings on its wings. I thought that, in leaving the tent, 
I had made no noise whatever, yet I must have done so, 
for she uttered a sharp painful little cry, and enquired 
with a startled frightened look, 'Who's there!' without, 
however, unclasping her hands, or rising from her knees ; 
it did not occur to her that she could be seen from 
without. 

' It's only I, Fanchyng,' I replied in a whisper, fearing 
to disturb others, to whom sleep was so necessary. 

3 K 



434 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

But evidently thinking that, by coming at such an 
hour, I must have tidings to communicate, she crept out. 

' Is he ? ' and she gulped the remainder of the 

sentence ; but I knew from her terrified manner of speak- 
ing that the word she could not utter was 'found! 

' No, Fanchyng, I have no news to tell you whatever ; 
but a few minutes ago I thought I heard a sound as of some 
one calling, and I am just going up the hill to see.' 

' Mem sahib ! dear Mem sahib ! Oh ! let me go too ! ' 
she exclaimed. Drawing her raiment around her, she 
went on before me ; and two apparitions were soon seen 
climbing the mountain slope, with a pale moon-shadow 
following, for the waning moon, a mere crescent now, 
hung low in the heavens. 

For one instant we stood, two black figures against 
the watch-fires, and listened ; but there was no sound 
save the crackling of the wood as it burned away, or 
when the flame burst forth with a sudden splutter, nor 
any sign of life, except the colossal form of Hatti standing 
like a sentinel. 

At these elevations the sky is black and opaque ; but 
the moon and stars, though possessing greater brilliancy 
and lustre, scintillate infinitely less, and appear to shine 
with a steadier light. The cold was intense, and all 
Nature looked unutterably solemn and lonely. Deo- 
dunga was visible, looking spectral beneath the stars ; but 
over its highest peak the faintest shade of rose still lin- 
gered, as though the great glory of the sunset had 



STERN ASPECT OF NATURE. 435 

scarce departed yet, whilst the fitful gleaming of the 
fire against the dark immensity of sky made everything 
look weird and supernatural. Fanchyng crept closer to 
my side ; the stern aspect of Nature seeming to terrify 
her, as she thought of her little brother, exposed to all its 
pitiless force. 

' Oh, Mem sahib,' she cried, in Hindustani, ' it is all so 
terrible; this uncertainty I mean!' And casting one 
steadfast gaze around her, as if taking in at a glance every 
fearful possibility, she shuddered, her whole frame for 
the moment convulsed, and then throwing herself on the 
ground, she burst into a passionate flood of tears. 

' Fanchyng, you must come down,' I said ; ' think 
how this exposure will increase your fever, and, ah me ! 
with so little clothing, the cold will kill you !' 

' Never mind me, Mem sahib, she replied, so soon as 
she could stifle her sobs ; ' I can only think of him. Let 
me stop here and watch with Hatti I want to stay out 
in the cold, I don't want to live ; and do you go below 
lest the Sahib miss you.' 

Living day after day in the heart of Nature, where 
all our best impulses are fostered, and far removed from 
the stern conventionalities of life, I had grown wonder- 
fully attached to these hill people, so childlike and 
impulsive as they are ; an attachment, not much to be 
wondered at either, remembering my previous predilec- 
tions for them. 

After much persuasion inducing her to return with 



43 6 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



me to the tent — for I dared not allow her to leave my 
side for an Instant, knowing, if I did so, she would arouse 
the whole camp — I sat up the remainder of the night, 
trying to soothe and cheer her ; till at length, overcome 
by very weariness, and forgetful of all for awhile, she 
and her sorrow slept. 




L_ 




CHAPTER XLI. 

OUR GUIDE DECAMPS. 

When dawn at last began to break, F went out to 

enquire after the health of the camp. Cattoo was already 

up, and hearing that F had left the tent, came 

forward with the intelligence that several men were ill 
and incapable of moving, little Rags amongst the num- 
ber ; whilst others were already lying down outside the 
tent, waiting for medicine, their eyes frightfully inflamed, 
as well as suffering in various other ways. Going up to 
them with cheery voice, and words full of encourage- 
ment and hope, for he is one of sanguine nature, he bid 
them one and all remain where they were till the sun 
should be up, assuring them that the ' mem sahib ' would 
at that time attend to their wounds ; and he then climbed 
the hill above encampment, where a little knot of men 
had already gathered. 

I was still lying on my little mattress when Tendook 

and his nephew, not having felt satisfied with F 's 

assurance that I was really better, came to enquire after 
me in person, and, stooping down, and peeping beneath the 
kernaughts, insisted on ocular demonstration of the fact. 



438 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



Very grateful was I for that which at other times would 
have seemed an impertinence, for it was impossible not 
to observe the undisguised pleasure and relief written 
on their broad, honest faces, when I gave them the de- 
claration from my own lips, that I was so far recovered 
as to feel able to undertake the day's march, and that 
I intended leaving the tent soon. 

' As long as the Mem sahib keeps well, everyone will 
be brave ; but if she gets ill, all will give in,' said little 
Goboon, addressing me with a spasmodic twitching about 
the mouth, and a glistening eye. 

Fanchyng was awake by this time, and sitting out- 
side the tent with the rest, looking terribly worn, poor 
girl, by her long night of agony and suspense. Presently 
she uttered a short, sharp cry, and springing to her feet, 
exclaimed, ' Oh ! mem sahib, look ! ' and was off like an 
arrow. Her quick and eager eyes had descried her 
brother's form, standing amongst the little knot of men 
who were assembled round the watch-fire. 

I did not see the greeting, but no doubt it was attended 
with great pulling of the ears and lolling of the tongue, 
and other odd demonstrations of welcome and delight, 
as the manner of these people is. But very soon I see 

F returning, followed by them both ; the little lad, 

however, approaching shyly and timidly behind, whilst 
Fanchyng comes running towards me. ' Mem sahib ! mem 
sahib ! ' she cried, the tears coursing each other down 
her cheeks from very gladness, ' had it not been for the 



LOST AND FOUND. 439 

sahib, my brother must have perished : it was the fire 
that led him towards us.' 

Ahve to the poor fellow's necessities F at once 

sacrificed the fatted calf, to the extent of his limited re- 
sources, consisting of some rum and water and a few 
biscuits saved from various chota hazrees, all of which he 
eagerly devoured, and then related how he had managed 
to lose us : — Whilst ascending the snow-fields, with the 
camp, under Junnoo, he had suddenly been seized with 
giddiness, and gradually falling in the rear, had ultimately 
sunk from drowsiness, no doubt accelerated by the fever 
from which he had been suffering, A long line of 
coolies was still behind him, but, when at last he was 
able to rouse himself, he found that they had all passed 
on, and that he was alone. 

By this time the fog had enveloped him completely, 
but keeping in the beaten track, and hastening y^rze'f^r^Tfj', 
as he thought, he hoped soon to overtake us ; nor was it 
until he reached the rock where we had halted on our 
upward way, that the appalling fact dawned upon him 
that he had, on arousing himself from the state of lethargy 
into which he had fallen, mistaken his bearings, and 
been 7^etracing his steps the whole way. 

The fog then clearing for an instant showed him, by 
the position of the sun, that two hours must have elapsed 
since he sunk down on the snow ; and having lost ground, 
he calculated that it might be six hours yet before he 
could reach Yangpoong, long before which time night 



440 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

would have set in. As this, together with the possibiHty 
of his losing his way, and the state of weakness and ex- 
haustion he was in, rendered it more than probable that 
he might not be able to reach so great a distance, and 
as in this case he would be certain to perish in the snow, 
he resolved upon returning to our old place of encamp- 
ment below. He had his blanket across his shoulders, 
and steel for striking light in his pouch, and with these 
he knew that if he once reached a region where wood 
could be found, he should not be frozen although he 
might starve. 

He was, however, unable to walk thus far. Footsore 
and weary, he crept at length under the shelter of a 
rock, and rolling himself up in his rug was soon fast 
asleep ; nor did he awake till midnight, when he observed 
the reflexion of our watch-fire, and believing it to be that 
of a party of natives bound to or from Thibet, made for 
it as quickly as he was able in the darkness, hoping not 
only to get food but company also on his way back to 
Darjeeling. Journeying on for hours, guided solely by 
this beacon light, sometimes losing sight of it altogether, 
and then led onwards by its reflexion in the sky, he at 
last reached it, and to his great joy found it to be that of 
our camp. 

' Self-preservation is the first law of Nature ' {vide 
Copybook) ; nor does he appear to have bestowed a 
thought upon the anxiety we must feel for him, or 
the days of agonising, fruitless search we should have 



OUR HOSPITAL. 



441 



instituted, had all thing-.s gone smoothly, and we had 
reached Yangpoong. 

The little lad once safe and sound amongst us, we deter- 
mined we would not inform C of our dreadful nieht of 

wakefulness and suspense, for now that it was all happily 
over there was no need to awaken his sympathies on our 
behalf by recounting miseries, and adding to his own, which 
were already sufficiently great. 
Our hearts lightened of 
this one great load, I went, 
as soon as the sun had 
well risen, to ascertain the 
wants of our poor suffering 
ones, still waiting patiently 
outside. A tolerable fire _ . 

had been made of small '' -'~ 

wood and brambles, which, having been scorched and 
dried by the frost, burnt brightly. Amongst the 
number waiting for medicine was little Rags, who 
had induced one of the others to help him along. 

Meanwhile F tore up what garments he could 

spare into long strips for bandages, and this done, we 
proceeded to attend to the sick and wounded in earnest. 
Several had large wounds in their feet and legs, to which 
we applied bandages, spread with cold cream, but by 
far the greater number were suffering from inflamed eyes, 
the eyelids absolutely exuding. These Tendook, who 
had come to our assistance, anointed with wild honey, 

3 L 




442 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



which F informed me in a confidential tone, like 

an ' Aside,' was a remedy in use amongst the ancient 
Greeks, who even believed it would restore sight to the 
blind. Tendook was very anxious to operate similarly on 
me — my eyes being also much inflamed — a kindly 
offer, however, which I need scarcely say I respectfully 

declined ! All this time C , some distance oft', was 

busily occupied in making arrangements for the day's 




march, in which the chuprassees were assisting, every 
one who could, lending a hand in packing, striking tents, 
&c., so many men being disabled. 

The cold at this time was so intense that it is impos- 
sible to describe it ; but it may be realised perhaps in 
some degree when I state that a cup of tea which our 
kind and thoughtful host sent into our tent for us, con- 



OUR GUIDE DECAMPS. 443 



gealing in a few minutes, became a solid lump of ice. 
Happily there was no wind whatever, or ' who could 
abide His frost ?' 

Whilst we were still attending to our invalids, Pugla- 
wallah came to tell us he had had no food all the pre- 
vious day, the others having given him none of the sheep 

which C . ordered to be slaughtered last night, for the 

general benefit of the camp. I fancy in these days that 
* might is right,' and that the poor fellow is unable to 
hold his own with the strong, and assert his claim to an 
equal share. We had, unfortunately, nothing to give him, 
but referred him for redress to the bu7n^a sahib, who, out 
of the depths of his compassion, ordered another sheep 
to be killed ; so that we have now only one left, and no 
rice or Indian corn whatever. 

One of the very first things which we learnt on 
quitting our tent this morning was, that our Guide had 
decamped during the night, and having met in solemn 
conclave over the fire, C told us we must conse- 
quently relinquish all hope of ever reaching Yangpoong. 
None of our camp knew the way, and it would not only 
be a hazardous thing to endeavour to reach it in the 
absence of a guide, but in all probability our attempts 
would prove unsuccessful. Yet it was a fearful disap- 
pointment to us all, to give up the hope that had been 
leading us onwards for so many marches, and forego our 
intention of sacking the little village, in case supplies of 
food should not be awaiting us there. 



444 THE INDIAN AIPS. 



To retrace our steps, therefore, as quickly as possible 
towards Mount Singaleelah, was now our only alterna- 
tive. Kabjeh, a large village, lies within half a day's 
quick march of that mountain ; and if it be looted — 
should things come to extremities, and food not 
reach us from any source before we get. there — if we 
ever do — there would be enough live stock in it to keep 
them from starving, even if it contained a short supply 
of both rice and bhoota, as the old Soubah of Mono- 
moo had stated. 

C also despatched two more men an hour ago, 

this time bearing a letter from himself to the Soubah, 
entreating him to send supplies to meet us at Mount 
Singaleelah, and requesting the messengers to travel 
night and day, till they should reach Mongmoo, and 
deliver the letter into the old man's own hands. 

No fewer than eight men have now been sent in 
different directions on a similar errand without success ; 
so that it was with small satisfaction that we received 
the information that these two last had been despatched 
likewise, having little confidence in the result of their 
mission. 

About ten o'clock we managed to strike tents and 
make a start, the coolies suffering from inflamed eyes 
being led blindfolded by those who were well, many of 
whom might often be seen carrying double loads. 
Amongst the number I observed Catoo leading little 
Rags. Having taken off his own pugree and wrapped 




„._.,-^.i 



OUR MEN SUFFER FROM FATIGUE AND HUNGER. 445 




it round the eyes of the latter, he was also carrying his 
load for him, and leading him along with the tenderness 
of a woman. 

Inexpressibly sad was it 
to watch the progress of our 
pilgrim band throughout the 
day's march, and note their 
downcast, weary looks, and 
footsteps growing slower and 
slower each hour ; the small 

quantity of food which C- 

has it in his power to give 
them now, being barely suffi- 
cient to keep them alive in 
these inclement heights, with such fatiguing marches and 
comparatively heavy loads. Fortunately we had a little 
port wine with us, and this we administered to two or 
three, who had broken down completely on the way. 

Just before nightfall, we reached a former place of 
encampment. By this time our tired men had lost all 
pluck ; and when this is the case it is impossible to rouse, 
or do anything with them. We did our best, however, 
to make them understand that it is through no fault 
of ours that they are suffering hunger ; our kind 
host had even given them the sheep which he had 
brought with him for our exclusive use, and they 
ought, on the contrary, to blame their own country- 
men for having failed in their promises of sending 



446 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

food to meet us at the various points along the route, as 
C had arranged with them before starting. 

The maund of sea-biscuit (80 lbs.) which C 

brought as a substitute for bread, now comes in most 
opportunely, and is of the greatest service in our need, 
for at the end of the march he distributed one to each 

man. F also divided a small portion of rum between 

them — all he could possibly spare — without which, 
slight as both were, they would have had absolutely 
nothing, after their long journey. During the latter part 
of the way it had been snowing fast, and this made us feel 
thankful we had so promptly decided to return, as no 
doubt it was falling heavily on the mountains where we 
lost our way. Our tents once pitched, the coolies sat 
round their fires, whilst the snow-flakes covered them as 
with a mantle. 

It is marvellous how at this period we contrived to 
keep up even a semblance of good spirits, neither of- us 
giving way, or expressing the real feelings we possessed, 

in view of the danger now actually before us. C 

was particularly reticent. I think he felt that our courage 
depended in no small degree upon his keeping up his 
own ; but I could read, by the deepening lines in his 
kind face, the anxiety he was undergoing, although he 
seldom if ever acknowledged it. 

That night I had a ghastly dream. I saw a crowd of 
men and women, clothed in white, standing with pale 
sunken faces, on the brink of a broad dark river, whilst, in 



I HAVE A GHASTLY DREAM. 447 

the distance, others were being borne slowly along in white 
hearses, which deposited their living freight also by the 
side of the river. Asking one of them what it all meant, he 
told me they were waiting the tide's coming to bear them 
across to some other country ; and then the river deepened 
and deepened, the forest was gradually submerged, 
and the water advancing nearer, at length swallowed 
up the very ground under my feet ; then a boat came to 
my rescue, and I found myself being ferried over the 
broad dark river ; and in my dream I repeated the last 
verse of one of Uhland's poems : — 

Nimm, tnir Fdhrmafin, ui/nni die Miethe ! 
Die ich gerne dreifach biete ; 
Zween die mit mir iiberfiihreti 
Wareti geistige Natureti. 

Take, O Boatman ! thrice thy fee ; 

Take ! I give it willingly, 

For, invisible to thee, 

Spirits twain have crossed with me. 

It was all a dream, yet it haunted me strangely long 
after, as dreams sometimes will. 



CHAPTER XLII. 

WE TAKE OUR BEARINGS AND FIND THE GUIDE MISLED US, 

The following morning everything was freezing hard, and 
the air biting ; but the snow had ceased to fall. In this 
exposed position we found the cold much more intense 
than that of our previous night's bivouac, where, though 
at a greater elevation, we were enclosed by mountains on 
all sides. The recently fallen snow had cleared the 
atmosphere, and as I left my tent, the sun was rising ; a 
fact I should not have guessed even — for the eastern 
horizon was cold and purple — had not Deodunga In the 
snow-girt west betrayed his approach. He was indeed 
invisible to us terrestrial beings ; but upon the point 
of earth nearest to heaven, in vesture white, a veil of 
thinnest gossamer covering it like some goddess bride, he 
had already risen with glory. Deodunga arrayed in her 
spotless mantle had espied the proud conqueror afar off, 
in all his blazonry of crimson and gold, travelling ma- 
jestically upwards to meet her, and was blushing at his 
approach ; else had I not known of his arising, so full of 
darkness and gloom was all around. In a few minutes 
Junnoo's summit also was tinged with pink, whilst the 
gorge through which we journeyed hither was still 



EXTENSIVE VIEW. 



449 



wrapped in solemn and unearthly shade, appearing 
within a stone's throw, although in reality we had made 
two marches since we left the base of Junnoo, and 
traversed it. 

From this position, we could trace the whole of our 
downward way after leaving the snowy plain ; and in an 

hour's time F and Tendook accompanied me to a 

spot above encampment, whence we had a still more ex- 




tended view. Before us, in a northerly direction, lay all 
the lesser peaks west of Junnoo, their outlines very little 
changed by a nearer approach. From Darjeeling they 
do not form very conspicuous objects amongst the grand 
and majestic peaks which dominate them, but the princi- 
pal landmark by which we knew our bearings, was that 
flattened and bowl-like mountain which I have previously 
mentioned, and which is impossible to mistake for any 
other. This we remembered passing close under, the 
day we were lost in the snow. 

3 M 



It became manifest therefore beyond all doubt, that 
we must really have gone through the Kanglanamo 
Pass after all. Had we not done so, we could not have 
approached Junnoo so closely. There lay our route 
mapped out before us, admitting of no mistake, for we 
recognised each little peak we passed, whilst traver- 
sing the snow-fields. We must, in short, not only 
have reached that plateau, upon which perpetual snow 
rests, but have gone considerably beyond it ; and had we 
not been prevented from proceeding further, by scarcity 
of food and threatening weather^which rendered delay 
in those hungriest and coldest of regions extremely 
hazardous — we should soon no doubt have reached the 
glaciers, according to our original intention. 

One thing at any rate is incontrovertible — we never 
could have reached Yangpoong by that route, having 
travelled in toQ westerly a direction, as will be seen by 
reference to the map ; by which also it will appear, 
that to have reached that village we must have made 
a descent of many thousand feet, and crossed the river 
Rungbi, Yangpoong being situated on a mountain rising 
out of that valley, on the opposite side of the river. The 
dry bed of a stream, therefore, which we crossed the 
day we got up into snow, must have been that of the 
Yamgotcha ; and the path my little Lepcha pointed out 
to me on our way, leading due east, was no doubt the 
one we ought to have taken after all. I believe most firmly 
therefore that the Guide purposely misled us, for surely 



he must have known, by the confii^uration of the moun- 
tains, where we then were ; whilst it will be remembered 
that, when we lost our bearing's in the fog, he declared we 
were already in the district of Yangpooiig, 

Had we not trusted to his guidance, in all probability, 
we should, with Major Shirwill's map in our possession, 
have reached that place long ago, instead of being in this 
present strait. The fact of his having decamped, too, 
goes far to confirm our suspicions that he misled us in- 
tentionally. Had he merely lost his way, we should 
have pardoned him, for surely the most experienced 
guide might easily have done so, in such blinding mist 
as that which enveloped us. Besides, he was fully 
aware that a considerable * backsheesh ' awaited him ; and 
knowing the disposition of these Nepaulese, I am con- 
vinced that nothing would have induced him to leave 
camp without at least trying to obtain it, had he not felt 
guilty, and dreaded punishment. 

Descending to our tent w'e caught sight of C 's 

tall military figure, standing in a long embroidered dress- 
ing-gown, looking like an Armenian priest, as he vigi- 
lantly superintended the cutting up and distribution of 
our last sheep, believing that the Bhootias as well as men 
of caste — viz. the plainsmen — generally appropriate all 
the largest and best portions themselves, and that the 
poor coolies have to be content with what they can get. 

After this, seated round a large fire — for, thank God, 
there is no lack of wood, dead trees lying about in every 



452 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

direction, some of which almost crumble at a touch, we 
talk as hopefully as we can of the future ; but there is a 
feeling of chill at our hearts' core, only increased by the 
stern aspect of Nature around. Not a blade of grass 
is here, nothing but a scene of desolation ; not a living 
bush or tree : and the dead ones, in every stage of slow 
decay, seem to tell of a withered past. Vigorous vegetation 
there once was ; what can have caused its sudden arrest ? 
What natural causes have been at work to prevent its 
growth ? Whence has come this strange and cruel oppo- 
sition to life ? Is it due to some change of temperature, 
such as that which caused plants indigenous to the low- 
lands of Europe, during the glacial period of its history, 
to flee to Alpine regions, from the gradually increasing 
heat ? 

As we muse thus in silent wonder, the sun, now fully 
risen, makes Deodunga's pyramid of ice and snow sparkle 
like a magnificent gem. From this spot it again shows 
itself as a superb pile of surpassing grandeur, its triple 
peak piercing the very heavens like a wedge, forming the 
most perfectly pure, lovely, and ideal creation the mind of 
man can conceive. Well has it been named Deodunga, 
Mount of God ; and as one gazes, the mind is impressed 
with something, even far beyond its beauty — a something 
differing from aught else, for the eye is resting on the 
culminating point of the earth's surface, on whose lone 
summit earliest breaks the dawn, and last lingers trace 
of day. 



EFFECT OF COLD ON PA TNT. 



453 



Glorious as are the incomings and outgoings of morn 
and eve on snow-clad mountains, I cannot help thinking 
at this moment, whilst gazing upon the loftiest of them 
all, how infinitely more pure and lovely is this majestic 
dome, so grandly solemn, wrapped in its robe of white ; 
and also that it teaches greater lessons to the heart thus, 
than under the passionate and pathetic eifects of sunrise 
and sunset, whose contrasts of resplendent colour, and 
livid death-like stillness, appeal to the emotions chiefly.: 

Waiting whilst tents are being struck, preparatory to 
the march, I occupy myself as usual, by endeavouring to 
make a little sketch of the surroundings of our encamp- 
ment, on this occasion using boiling water for the pur- 
pose, F and C assisting by warming my palette^ 

by the fire ; but notwithstanding that I am sitting close 
to it myself, the paint freezes as I put it on, and instead 
of sinking into the paper it peels off in thin sheets of 
coloured ice ! : 




;i,-v7 



F.,,,^ 



454 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

WE TAKE STOCK OF OUR REMAINING PROVISIONS. 

Another weary march, and yet another, brings us to our 
usual day of rest ; but although it is Sunday, we have 
decided upon marching to-day, the first time we have 
done so since leaving home, always having given the 
'seventh' to our poor folk as a day of repose, holding 
a short service for ourselves in the dining tent. Our 
beautiful and almost perfect Liturgy never seemed half so 
grand as at such times, for amidst these vast solitudes, 
no Sabbath bells are needed to raise the soul to a worship- 
ful mood. Nature herself holds within them an eternal 
Sabbath, and worship is felt to be the ' reasonable 
service.' 

We must, if possible, make a forced march to-day — 
accomplishing two in one — and reach Mount Singaleelah, 
even should night overtake us on the way. We shall be 
descending the whole distance fortunately, so that the 
fatigue of all will be greatly lessened ; were it not so, I do 
not think the men in their weakened state could possibly 
carry their loads. 

Encouraging the poor fellows as well as we can, we 
make a tolerably early start, following the same track 



— scarcely perceptible now however — by which we 
came, making a slight detour in one place only, to save 
distance, which brought us to a weird valley, a very 
charnel-house and Aceldama of dead pines, which lay 
everywhere like prostrate giants where they fell, with 
nothing living around them but cold grey lichen, which 
incased everything. We passed the same ice-caves, silent 
and empty now, for the men plod onwards with a dull 
and steady tramp, too listless even to take rest in them, 
as they did on their way hither. 

' Do you think food will reach us in time to prevent 
our men from starving ? ' I enquire of Tendook, who is 
walking by my side. 

' Eh ! Mem sahib, yes ! if God wills,' he replied, in a 
sad, but resigned tone. 

Reaching a mountain called Labing, we halt for an 
hour, and kindle a fire upon the blackened embers we 
left behind when camping here before. The grass is be- 
ginning to grow again where we trod it down, and the gay 
petals of the little mauve primrose, cushioning the ground 
in sheltered nooks amongst the stones, are holding up 
their heads to catch the light, and drink in the sunshine^ 
whilst our people stand in silent and pathetic groups, with 
wistful faces, wondering, as I fancy, why anything should 
look cheerful, when they are so sad. Yet the sun shines 
as brightly, as if there was no such thing as sorrow, and 
pain, and hunger in the world. 

Fanchyng not yet having lost her feverish symptoms. 



Nimboo searches for a certain herb, which he says is be- 
lieved by the Lepchas to be very beneficial in such cases, 
adding, that when we reach Pemionchi, if she is not 
well by^ that time, the Lamas will speedily charm her 
sickness away. 

; Here we take stock of our remaining resources, and 
find them to consist of twenty biscuits, one bottle of rum, 

and another of brandy. C- still had in his possession 

some tinned provisions, which, had they been divided 
amongst the camp, would probably have yielded scarcely 
more than a mouthful to each man, so that to have done 
§o would have been folly in the extreme, and we our- 
selves, left without the slightest food, must have been the 
first to perish, being less accustomed than ihv,y are to 
hardship and fatigue. Yet such is the kindness and be- 
nevolence of our host, that had there been sufficient to 
do them any lasting good, I feel sure he would have 
given it gladly and at once, without consideration for 
ourselves. 

At this time nothing would have been easier to them 
than deserting us, and carrying away not only these few 
provisions, but our tents also, had they been so minded, in 
which case we must have perished inevitably ; but, strange 
as it may seem, I do not think the idea even occurred to 
us, or we should naturally have taken precautions to 
prevent its possibility. Our safety, doubtless, mainly 
consisted in numbers, and in the presence of Tendook. 
It is no smallboon to have the friendship of such a man, 



THE DATURA PLANT 457 

surrounded as we are by Bhootias, who, I suspect, but for 
the wholesome fear they entertain of the EngHsh Govern- 
ment, would soon exterminate the Europeans resident at 
Darjeeling. As it is, they are not unfrequently given to 
poison those against whom they owe a grudge or possess 
feelings of animosity, doing so by the decoction of the 
seed of a plant called the </«/?/n?, which they find in the 
jungle, and which leaves a deposit of a greenish colour 
when administered in liquid, by which it may often be 
detected. As a rule, however, they take care to give it in 
quantities not sufficient to prove fatal, but merely to 
create unpleasant sensations, amongst which are giddiness 
and a feeling of delirium. 

Some few months before the time of which I write, 
one of my friends was suffering from a malady for several 
weeks, the nature of which puzzled everyone completely. 
At length it was suspected that it was due to poison ; and 
the deposit I have referred to having been detected in 
some tea that was brought expressly for her, an investi- 
gation followed, at which all the servants were summoned. 
I was present on the occasion, and shall not soon forget 
the attitude and significant speech of the cook, a powerful 
Bhootia, and a magnificent fellow in stature, standing six 
and a half feet high, with shoulders broad in proportion, 
who, with arms folded, and looks calm and defiant, ad- 
dressing the master of the house, said ; 

' Do you think, Sahib, if we wanted to get rid of you, 
we should resort to such small means as that? Ooh!' 

3 N 



458 THE INDIAN A IPS. 



he continued, shrugging his shoulders, ' we should cut 
your heads off at once.' 

From this spot we look down upon a chaos of up- 
heaved rock, boulder upon boulder of gigantic dimen- 
sions flung together, each telling its own tale of wars 
and convulsions, in the world's early history. One could 
scarcely help fancying that earth-spirits, or gnomes, had 
been fighting with each other, and had left the relics of 
their warfare behind ; whilst clouds, floating here and 
there, getting entangled amongst them, seem held as in 
their very teeth. In other places, cumuli, hanging be- 
neath the mountain summits, alike take shape and form, 
and throwing wild and elf-like shadows, seem beckoning 
me to follow in their wake. 

Then once more starting on our way, we wander on, 
till we enter a belt of juniper-trees, feathered with newly 
fallen snow, their branches drooping from its weight ; and 
Kinchinjunga is again before us. But the mountains I 
loved so well have scarce gleam or glory now : the deep 
sorrow I feel for the poor men whose footsteps we follow, 
hunger written in their sunken faces, have well-nigh 
robbed them of their beauty. 

We have all a vague idea that Mother Earth sym- 
pathises with her children — that when they are sad she 
smiles not at all, or with a more tender and chastened 
radiance ; but it is a false glamour, whatever poets may 
say to the contrary, and these grim and lifeless mountains, 
so mute and motionless, so cruel, and hard, and passion- 



AN ENCHANTED FOREST. 



459 



less, maintaining such stolid indifference, alike to storm 
and sunshine, sorrow and joy, seem in these days to crush 
my very soul. Their silence, too, and mute unconcern, 
are almost unbearable when one feels as though the very 
stones should cry out as we pass. 

Journeying on with heavy footsteps we reached 
• the outskirts of an enchanted forest ; for these moun- 
taineers have their folklore, as we have seen, peopling 
not only rocky fastnesses, but woods also, with spirits of 
good and ill, bearing witness to the desire they enter- 
tain in common with all other nations of bridging 
over the border-land between this and that other 
world, as well as to the awe in which all alike regard 
the unseen. Through this they passed, not singly, but 
in companies, and the wind within its labyrinths sang 
a solemn dirge, and came moaning and wailing like a 
banshee. My dandy-bearers, calling my attention to it, 
said it was the voice of the air-god. It blew the little 
pine spikes in our faces all one way, like tears ; and 
over the ancient rocks that lay along our pathway like 
giant tombs, the fir-trees bowed their heads, and for once 
all Nature seemed in harmony with our mood. 

Overtaking the man who was carrying our store of 

food, C doled out half a biscuit to each of my bearers. 

Proceeding a little further, w^e came upon a baggage 
coolie lying on the ground in a perfectly exhausted state, 
and unable to bring on his load. We gave him a 
little wine we happened to have in our flask, which 




460 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



revived him somewhat ; and then bidding one of my 
dandy-men carry his load, and Hatti to help him along, 
we brought him with us, fearing to leave him behind. 

It was truly pitiful in these hours to hear the poor 
fellows rallying each other. ' Don't give in,' they would 
say ; ' when we reach Mount Singaleelah we will devour 
a maund of rice apiece.' 

In his great but unspoken anxiety, C sent another 

man, at dawn to-day, to entreat those despatched yester- 
day, for Heaven's sake, to hasten back with food, if they 
could but obtain it from the Soubah. 




'MANNA IN THE WILDERNESS: 461 



CHAPTER XLIV. 



RENEWED DISAPPOINTMENT. 



These nomad tribes, when travelling in uninhabited 
wilds such as these, and running short of provisions, 
can often subsist almost wholly on the young and succu- 
lent shoots of the bamboo, as well as wild rhubarb and 
other plants. At this time of the year, however, none 
of these are to be found ; but the last few miles we 
observed something growing, the leaves of which resem- 
bled those of the parsnip. C dug one up, and 

the root appeared very like it also. The existence of 
this herb, of which we remembered having seen a 
great deal near Mount Singaleelah, gave us some slight 
hope in case things came to extremities. As for my- 
self, I almost felt that we had found ' manna in the 
wilderness,' until Tendook assured me that the Lepchas, 
who know the qualities of every plant to be found, had 
declared it to be unfit for food, if not altogether 
poisonous. We do feel almost certain, however, that 
we shall find provisions awaiting us on arrival at camp 
this evening, and with this hope we try to quicken the 
steps of our men. 



462 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

The frost has been tightening over the land since we 
passed it, not long ago : the leaves have been crisping 
and falling — the red and sienna-coloured leaves of the 
wild cherry — and form a rustling carpet of divers colours. 
The mountain streams, which rang silvery chimes of 
welcome on our upward way, are silent now, held in tight 
grasp by the fingers of the ice-king ; and the tall dry leaf- 
less spikes of the aconite tear the coolies' clothes as they 
lunge heedlessly along, scratching their feet even more 
than the fragments of slate ; whilst the whitened and frost- 
stricken rhododendron leaves hang down and nestle toge- 
ther over the stems, as if to try and keep each other warm. 

But I will not describe our march further, as we thus 
ingloriously retrace our steps. Suffice it to say that, 
after an unutterably weary tramp of nine hours, during 
which, but for the feeling of terrible responsibility laid 
upon us in the lives of our retinue, I at any rate must 
have sunk from weariness of mind and body, we arrived, 
just before nightfall, at the summit of the precipice 
above Mount Singaleelah, which I described as having 
ascended on Hatti's back on our way hither, and the 
descent of which, in the gathering darkness, became 
a perilous proceeding. 

Looking eagerly over the ridge of the mountain, we 
saw that some persons had already reached our old 
camping place, for fires were burning. By these in- 
dications we trusted that a goodly number had come to 
anchor there, or perhaps — and our hearts beat high at 



RENEWED DISAPPOINTMENT. 463 

the thought — they might at last be the messengers 
arrived from Mongmoo with food. 

Our hopes, however, were again doomed to bitter 
disappointment, for on descending we found that no food, 
alas ! had come, nor any news as to the cause of delay in 
the return of our men, sent ages ago, as it seemed, from 
this place to the Kajee. The persons who had kindled 
fires were merely Tendook's followers, who we all along 
suspected were not quite in such severe straits as our own— 
a suspicion which we now find to have been well grounded, 
from the fact of their being occupied in parching Indian 
corn when we arrived, showing that they still have some- 
thing left. They were, besides, able to come on more 
quickly than our own men, nearly all of whom we had 
been obliged to leave behind, one by one lagging in the 
rear ; and exhausted and tired as we were ourselves, 
we had to wait their arrival for tents and everything 
else that we needed. 

The last few miles of their march would lead them 
over uneven ground, through dense forest of rhododen- 
dron, and, worse still, in some places through the denser 
forest of the hill bamboo. Darkness had already enclosed 
us, and our great fear was lest, if it overtook them in 
one of these forests, they would be unable to grope their 
way out and reach us. We could only account for their 
lingering so long behind us by this supposition, or by the 
even graver fear that they had completely broken down 
on the road. Throwing ourselves on the ground by the 



fire, we sat watching hour after hour beneath the stars, 
which looked down upon us meekly, glistening like eyes 
filled with tears. 

To complete our wretchedness, were anything needed, 
a thick fog now came on ; and Tendook and his people, 
standing at the foot of the precipice, began making by 
turns that peculiar and wild Lepcha call which I have de- 
scribed elsewhere, hoping to attract the attention of the 
wanderers, who would now be unable to see their way 
along, and lead them nearer us for succour. 

The shout resounded again and ao^ain, as the wave of 
sound was caught by the swelling buttresses of the Singa 
leelah Range, till, growing fainter and fainter as it tra- 
velled onwards, it died away in the distance. Although it 
could have been heard for many miles, no answer reached 
us save the echo, sent back from rock to rock, that only 
seemed to mock us like the demons, which by small efibrt 
of the imagination might be supposed to inhabit these 
mountain fastnesses. 

By this time our fires began to wane, but we would 
not have them replenished, lest the crackling of the wood 
should prevent our hearing voices in the distance, as we 
still sat listening for the faintest sound that indicated the 
approach of any of the benighted travellers, whom may 
God in His mercy help ! 

At length, after one more shout from Tendook, we 
thought we actually did hear a distant sound like that of 
a response; and when the echo of his own voice, which 



confused the ear, had died away, the sound of many 
others afar off reached us. Thank God ! Some, then, 
at any rate, if not all, were now within reach of help. 
But how could they descend the precipice ? Accustomed 
even as they are to scrambling down these rocky 
declivities, none could escape a broken neck in the dark- 
ness. Dear old Tendook, however, alive to every emer- 
gency, in an instant summoned his little band of men and 
ordered them to make torches. 

A great quantity of bamboo cane was lying about the 
ground, left from our last bivouac here. In less time 
than it takes to describe, this was collected together and 
laid in a heap before the fire, after they had first thrown 
some upon it, to create a flame to enable them to see. 
Each man then split the canes into four with his ' kook- 
rie ' or ' ban,' and bound them together in bundles about 
seven feet long, in readiness to be lighted. 

Now arose a noisy discussion as to who amongst 
them should go to the rescue. The rock and its fast- 
nesses are well known to be the haunt of bears, and 
none were willing to venture up at that time of night. 
Never can I forget the scene which followed. Forcing 
his way through the group of cowardly menials, the sweet 
supple-limbed and manly Goboon appeared, and without 
uttering a single word took up a torch, lighted it, and 
placing another unlighted on his left shoulder, his head 
erect, his red tunic swaying at each movement of his 
graceful figure, and his face wearing an almost sublime 

3 o 



expression, manfully threaded his way into the dark- 
ness alone. It was an instance of heroic daring, noble 
courage, and self-reliance for one so young, that made me 
sorry he was not destined for higher things, and reminded 
me of the youthful champion of Israel going forth to 
meet Goliath of Gath ; and very touching was it to us 
all, whose minds were already overstrained by fatigue 
and anxiety, to see this plucky, gallant little lad marshal- 
ling stalwart Goorkhas to the help of those in distress. 
Many followed his example, and we watched the lights 
winding up and up between the rocks, and glimmering 
faintly through the mist, till they disappeared at length 
over the summit of the mountain. 

Surely ' patience will have its perfect work ' in us. 
Yet another hour's watching, which seemed a whole 
livelong, weary, anxious night, before any sound reached 
us ; and then, hearing shouts from a distance, faintly 
answered from a greater distance still, we guessed that 
Goboon and his followers had only now lighted on 
the poor fellows to whose relief they had gone. Pre- 
sently, a little light, flickering dimly through the mist, 
was seen above the mountain ridge. On it came, 
slowly but surely. It was Goboon, but alas ! bringing 
only eleven of our men, the coolies carrying tents being 
still behind. There was, consequently, little chance of 
our doing more than reclining before the camp fire for 
the rest of the night. But we had long ago ceased 
to heed trifles, and thought not of ourselves, but 



onl)' of the poor men whom we had so unwittingly exposed 
to such dangers. 

Meanwhile Tendook and his people still continued 
shouting below the rock, and the dreary monotony of the 
sound, so plaintive and prolonged, ' Hoo-hoo ! hoo- 
hoo — o — o — o!' was such that at last, worn out by 
fatigue and anxiety, we had nearly subsided into slumber, 
having given up all expectation of more men reaching us 
before morning, when towards midnight the call was 
again answered, and Goboon and his chosen few once 
more hurried off with flambeaux which had previously 
been made in readiness. The night, happily, by this time 
was bright starlight, although moonless, all signs of fog 
having disappeared. 

Presently a little twinkling star showed itself just 
above the black outline of the mountain top. So tiny 
was it that we could not for an instant tell whether it 
were of earth or sky ; then another and another : on they 
came — a whole constellation of them — till the sound of 
many voices reached us, from which we augured that all 
must be arriving. Lighting another torch, we went to 
meet them, with a welcome too deep for utterance, for 
we seemed linked together in one common brotherhood 
by the suffering we had all alike to endure. 

We had been too sanguine, however : they were 

C 's men only ; Catoo, in charge of ours, being still 

behind, and these had not been heard of by any who 
had hitherto arrived. We passed them ourselves shortly 



468 • THE INDIAN AIFS. 

after leaving Labing, where we halted about noon. 
They were then sitting down perfectly exhausted, and 
Catoo was vainly endeavouring to urge them to resume 
their loads and follow the rest. As they had not arrived, 
therefore, we were compelled to relinquish all hope of 
their reaching us before the morning, and our anxiety 
about them was intense. 

C and F now collected togfether whatever 

rum and brandy there remained, and, mixing both together 
with hot water, called all the shivering wretches round 
them, and doled out to each man about half a wine- 
glassful ; whilst Tendookand I, at C 's request, stood 

at convenient angles, watching narrowly to prevent the 
possibility of anyone presenting himself for the purpose a 
second time. 

And there they stood a silent mass of men, each wait- 
ing his turn, their sad faces lit up by the flaming torch- 
light. Strange wistful eyes gazed into ours with a vague 
but passionate yearning, as if asking some question, and 
then looking off again with an expression of disappoint- 
ment, like those who expected answer, but found none ! 
and truly there was no indication of hope in our faces, in 
which despair alone was written. How could it be other- 
wise, with such a load of care filling our hearts ? 

The scene was affecting and solemn. None spoke or 

uttered a sound, whilst C apportioned carefully to each 

man his share ; and the knowledge that this was almost 
the last nourishment of any kind he had to bestow, unde- 



AFFECTING SCENE. 



469 



monstrative as he always was, I could yet see, touched 
him deeply. A handful of biscuits was still left, but 
diese he wisely withheld till the morrow, that all might 
have a mouthful wherewith to begin the march. 

Then, amidst the great stillness, C 's voice was 




. ^ 



heard, bidding them one and all keep up courage yet a 
little longer ; after which all went silently away. 

The little that we coitld do for our poor men having 
been done, we sat some time longer round the waning 
fire talking ; and then we realised to the full, that from 
the first we had been leaning on a broken reed, and that 
it was by trusting to the faithfulness of these Kajees and 
Soubahs, that we had brought ourselves and followers into 
this terrible strait. 



C 's tent having arrived, he insisted on our 

occupying it for the remainder of the night, appropriating 
to his own use the Httle commissariat tent ; and his men 
being too exhausted, those of Tcndook had pitched it for 

us. In a few minutes F was fast asleep, with no trace 

of sorrow or anxiety on his placid upturned face; but I 
did not lie down that night, but sat up, eagerly listening 
for the sound of footsteps ascending the valley, still 
entertaining a lingering hope that food might reach us 
from Mongmoo before dawn. 



STARVATION POINT 471 



CHAPTER XLV. 

THE DRIPPING FOREST. 

Morning broke with the same result. Anxiety seems 
now to be the Htany of our Hves, for disappointed hopes 
come each day with a cruel and terrible persistency ; 

and F and I ask each other, wonderingly, is the old 

Soubah playing us false, as well as the Kajee of Yang- 
ting ? The messenger last sent was a constable, yet not 
one has returned to tell the tale. 

Quitting the tent as soon as we were able to grope 

our way out, we found C already up and talking 

earnestly to Tendook, the former of whom told us that he 
had determined upon starting the very earliest possible 
moment for Mongmoo, to have a personal interview with 
the Soubah himself. 

Only one thing remained to be done before leaving 
us, and that was, to ransack the empty provision baskets, 
to see whether anything was hidden amongst the straw. 
This resulted in the discovery of two pint bottles of 
beer, a tin of mustard, and the bottle of wild honey the 
old Soubah had given us when we last encamped here. 
Besides which there was also a small quantity of the 
compound saved from the distribution of last night. 



472 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



These ingredients, being mixed with as much mustard 
as could be swallowed — for we could not afford even to 

waste this — C came to F , who was trying to 

evade him, and asked whether he was quite sure he had 
no more rum ? 

' No,' replied F , ' I have given you the last 

drop.' 

' Nor brandy ? ' he demanded. 

'None,' was F 's rejoinder, 'except' — a pause. 

' None, that is, except the little I have in my pocket- 
flask ; and surely we must keep that, in case any poor 
fellow be found fainting by the way.' 

But C 's importunity prevailing, F retired 

to the tent to fetch it ; and after this was added to the rest, 
with sufficient hot water to make a warm comforting 
drink, the poor weary disheartened men were once more 
summoned, the greater number responding, not readily, 
as we naturally expected they would do, but as if they 
would infinitely have preferred being left undisturbed. 

Strange to say, reduced as they all were to famine- 
point, the Nepaulese refused it, saying that to do so 
would break their caste ; albeit they partook of it to a 
man last night, under cover of the darkness. 

' Not drink it ! ' exclaimed C ; ' why, you all did 

last night ; it's only medicine.' 

' To be sure,' chimed in Tendook, ' of course it's 
medicine : who ever heard of drinking spirit in such 
small quantities ? ' — alluding to murwa, the only alcohol 



ARRIVAL OF CATOO. 473 



with which they are familiar, and which, as I have said, 
the Bhootias and Lepchas take in large quantities.' 

Tendook's rejoinder, however, had the desired effect, 
for one and all came forward, and drank their share. 
The biscuits were next carefully divided, amounting to 
half a one each. This, with the warm drink, seemed 
to give them a slight stimulus to exertion, for they 
soon began packing up their loads, preparatory to the 
march. 

Going up to them, C then explained the object 

of his early departure — viz. to hasten to Mongmoo, and, 
if possible, bring food back bodily to meet them ; at the 
same time giving them permission to sack any village 
they might come to on the way thither — a permission I 
fancy they would not be slow to avail themselves of, 
should the opportunity occur. 

Soon after his departure, we were cheered by the 
arrival of Catoo and our little band of men, whom at one 
moment we feared we should have to leave behind. 
They had, it seems, bivouacked for the night in a forest 
of bamboo, and started at break of day. We were unable 
to give these poor fellows anything whatever, and as 
they were absent at the distribution of the previous 
night, they had not of course had a share of the scanty 
sustenance of which even the others had partaken. 
Their exhaustion was extreme. 

^ Hindoos will never object to take medicine from our hands, although 
they would break their caste by drinking anything else we might offer them. 



Whilst helping to pack up tents, &c., a chuprassee 
came to us saying that one of the coolies had robbed Pug- 
la-wallah of his portion of rum last evening, as well as of 
his biscuit this morning. The poor fellow is in no worse 
case than Catoo's party; but he is a weakly man physi- 
cally as well as mentally, and in the matter of food, I 
strongly suspect, has been treated badly ever since we 
left Darjeeling. 

Taking care that no one is left behind, and making 
my dandy-bearers carry the loads of Catoo's band, who 
are reduced to so great a state of weakness as to be 
utterly incapable of doing so themselves, I walk with 

F 's assistance ; and we are soon descending to the 

lovely valley which lies stretched at our feet, and wind- 
ing our way once more beneath noble forest trees, giant 
rhododendrons, firs, and the lofty sol. We are here at 
the cradle of the infant Kullait, and are followed by the 
never-ceasing music of mountain streams, no longer silent, 
for they are below the dominion of the ice-king, and are 
hurrying off with sweet sprinklings of sound, to swell 
noble rivers far beneath. Presently the voice of greater 
waters reached us, and a torrent foaming on either side 
seemed nearing us as it fell ; whilst an opening in the 
foliage here and there displayed them plunging over 
moss covered boulders, forming an exquisite combination 
of ' wood and rock and falling water,' How pleasant 
it is to be once more in the midst of soft vegetation and 
fertilising streams, after witnessing Nature for so long a 



PUG LA WALLAH FA L NTS. 475 



time in her austere moods in the frost-bound region we 
have quitted ! 

Behind came Tendook, helping those who most 
needed help, while below, the baggage coolies descended 
in irregular groups, with footsteps slow and weary. At 
length we saw one lying on the path with his face towards 
the ground : hastening up we tried to arouse him, but 
with the roar of waters near us, could hear no answer, 
and knew not whether he were dead or alive. Raising 
his head, however, we discovered that he was none other 
than poor Pugla-wallah, who had apparently fainted. 

' God is just,' exclaimed Tendook, in his vernacular, 
as he sat down and laid the poor wan face on his 
knee. 

Not knowing what to do to revive the poor fellow, 
we bitterly regretted having no brandy with us ; but 
at that instant, as if by inspiration, it occurred to me 
that there ought to be a small quantity of port wine 
in one of the bottles of my travelling bag, which I had 
on one occasion taken with me when going on in advance 
of the camp, but had not made use of; and, on searching, 
to my great delight, there it was. 

Parting his lips, Tendook poured a little down his 
throat. He had only fainted from exhaustion, for he 
soon opened his eyes, and showed other signs of return- 
ing consciousness ; and after swallowing the whole, he was 
able to sit up, and soon sufficiently restored, with Hatti's 
assistance, to walk, my little friend Rags carrying his load ; 



but we were very frequently obliged to halt, not only to 
give Pugla-wallah rest, but to arouse others whom we 
often overtook lying helplessly on the ground, for we 
dare leave none behind. Then how piteous was it to 
see them make one more effort, and, moaning, take up 
their loads and journey on again ! 

Until this moment I had been walking ; but summon- 
ing the strongest of my bearers, I urged them to en- 
deavour to carry me, if but for a short distance, feeling 
that I was myself breaking down, and should soon be 
unable to proceed another step. 

The torrents which had been approaching each other 
nearer and nearer now ceased to roar, and uniting, formed 
themselves into a broad and placid river, whose dark 
surface was disturbed scarcely by a ripple. Through the 
valley the wind blew with cutting force, and shook the 
branches ; but they admitted no sunbeam, as they swayed 
their arms above us. A little lower still, and everything 
reeking with moisture dripped upon us as we passed, 
whilst, to add to the gloom, thick vapour following the 
windings of the river hung in heavy masses below the 
topmost branches of the trees. 

Quite beyond the power of language is it to describe 
the gloom of this all but impenetrable forest, in which 
vegetation was marvellously rank ; the portions of fallen 
rock also which lay along our pathway, covered with 
a black and slimy lichen, formed themselves into natural 
grottoes, whence water trickled perpetually. F , 



taking off his overcoat, now threw it across my shoulders, 
for the air was chilhng to the bone ; and coming to 
a sohtary hut, we took refuge in it for awhile. The 
roof and posts supporting it were covered with moss, 
fungus, and every kind of moist vegetation, and it must 
have been deserted long ago ; but to us, who had tra- 
velled so many weary miles without coming across the 
semblance of man's existence past or present, it had an 
appearance of almost positive ' habitation.' 

But for the plaintive and half-suppressed groans of 
our pilgrim band, not a sound broke the stillness of the 
woods, save the river, which whispered to us in soft and 
pathetic cadence, as we crept along its margin. Some- 
times, in language all its own, it seemed leading us 
onwards with words of comfort. And the hope it inspired 
was no delusive one, for distant shouts soon reached us, 
growing louder and louder each moment, till from out 

the gloom we recognised C 's tall form approaching 

with rapid strides, waving his hat on high, and we felt 
sure that relief at last had come. 

In another instant he and little Goboon were at our 
side, and told us how that on the way they had met the 
messengers sent to Mongmoo returning with the long- 
looked-for food. On hearing this, the poor starving 
fellows one and all dashed their loads to the ground, 
in a manner by no means conducive to the well-being 
of their contents. 

' Hurrah ! ' cried one; 'no more dying, food has come.' 



478 THE INDIAN AIPS. 



At the same time my bearers, apparently forgetting- in their 
excitement that I was a living load, gave me a toss in 
the air, the last effort of which I fancy they were capable, 
and then allowed me to follow the laws of gravitation 
unaided, and find my own level on the ground. 

They now proceeded to collect \^ood, and arranging 
themselves in groups, each made his own fire, in anticipa- 
tion of the food, which, thank God ! was now so soon 
to reach them ; and by the time they were alight — for 
the moss and sticks being damp, it was rather a slow 
process — our eyes were gladdened by the sight of the 
men coming hurriedly along with baskets laden with 
rice, Indian corn, and other articles of food, and be- 
tween seventy and eighty famishing people ate to their 
fill and were satisfied. 

Thus at length came the glad hour that put away 
our fears. But great happiness, coming suddenly and 
unexpectedly on great sorrow, is almost pain at first ; 
and the change from despair to complete relief was more 
than we could well bear, as, seating ourselves upon a 
fallen tree, we watched our people with moistened eye 
and feelings too deep for speech. The sombre shade, 
the picturesque groups of figures, the smoke wreathing 
upwards in all directions through the trees, the heaving 
vapour, dragged into fragments by the waving branches 
which dripped with moisture, the silent river flowing 
in one broad sheet of crystal, not a ripple on its bosom 
— all forming a combination so strangely weird, and at 



the same time so placid, and full of calm repose, presented 
a sight never to be forg'otten while memory lasts. 

The hunger of our camp appeased, they gathered 
together in little knots, recounting over and over again 
their past fears, and dwelling on present happiness ; how 
that they thought it was 'decreed' that they should starve 
in the mountains ; but that now they were to live, and 
eat and drink and be merry. 

Ay, and they were merry, for C , having ascer- 
tained that they had rested sufficiently, and giving signal 
for departure, the coolies cheerfully resumed their loads ; 
and mirth and joy, to which they had long been strangers, 
once more took possession of them all. Resounding 
through the forest were 
jocund voices far and near ; 
and Nautch-wallah, catch- 
ing the contagion, could be 
seen again indulging in an 
imposing war-dance, his 
supple zig-zag figure gyrat- 
ing as of old, only wanting 
goat's feet in the place of 
mocassins, and a pair of 
horns instead of the wisp 
of hair peering through his 
conical cap, to make him a first-rate satyr. 

Having descended at least 5,000 feet since leaving 
Mount Singaleelah, we were now below the region of 




48o 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



cloud, and the forest, though dense as ever, wore a 
totally different aspect. Our senses, too, under altered 
feelings, were suddenly kindled to the fair and gentle 
beauty of the scene ; * for lo ! the winter is past, the 
flowers appear on the earth, and the time of singing of 
birds is come.' 




None of the trees at this elevation are deciduous, 
and a lap of soft and living green lies stretched above 
and around us. From the loftiest tree, with its graceful 
parasite and glorious orchids, to the ferns and mosses we 
tread beneath our feet, there is no sign of the ' sere 
and yellow leaf.' Does Nature never decay in this fair 
Eden ? Is it one perpetual burst of undying spring, as 
on the first Sabbath of the world's history, when God 



rested from His labours, and ' behold, everything was 
very good ' ? 

The plaintive and soothing note of the kokra now 
greets us, and the forest is tuneful with the joyous melody 
of other birds ; the river too becomes once more a 
foaming torrent, lashing itself into spray as it plunges 
over boulders of gneiss, whilst here and there, forming 
deep green pools, it sleeps to the music of its own lullaby. 
Following its banks for another hour, we came upon evi- 
dences of man's existence in traps to catch fish ; and be- 
neath these traps, which are long fences of bamboo 
spanning the river, were singular conical baskets, which 
Tendook informed me were placed there to catch edible 
frogs. 

The woods now began to be alive with sunshine, as 
golden arrows pierced the leafy canopy ; and soon emer- 
ging upon the open, we found ourselves again in the 
haunts of men, and amongst gentle acclivities planted 
with millet and buckwheat, all aglow with wild flowers, 
and higher up smiling patches of Indian corn, still shim- 
mering in the mellow sunlight. 

Slowly ascending these sunny uplands, the tremulous 
and yellow glare of day gradually gave place to softer 
tints of evening ; shadows lengthened across our pathway, 
and the sun began to sink behind the mountains. No 
wonder that, in the childhood of the world, man fixed 
his paradise in the golden West, the ' land of the setting 
sun.' There, near glittering shores, little crimson and 

3 Q 



482 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

gold-flecked clouds lay, floating like ships at anchor in a 
sea of glory ; broad arrows of dazzling light — his last 
adieu — shot upwards as the orb of day sank deeper 
below the horizon ; then came a saddening and subdu- 
ing of its brightness, followed by the magic afterglow, in 
which the sky was filled with saffron melting into green, 
thence into rose, till all faded into peaceful and ethereal 
blue. 

' Who coverest Thyself with light as with a garment, 
Who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain,' soliloquised 

F . And, living day after day amongst Nature one 

learns to see of a truth, if one never knew it before, 
that ' the brush that paints the skies is not that of an 
artist who paints at random.' 

' No,' added C solemnly, turning round and 

gazing towards the west, still filled with an Elysian 
brightness ; ' it is an Apocalypse in God's own writing.' 

And conversing thus, the still and solemn twilight 
closes over us, bringing with it thoughts of the morrow ; 
— not that morrow we shall awaken to in this life, but 
that more glorious one, when, our 'little day' having 
reached its close, the weariness and toil and difificulties 
of life's journey will be hushed in the happiness and 
peace of a long eternity. 



KABJEE. 483 



CHAPTER XLVI. 



KABJEE. 



Darkness had almost overtaken us before we reached 
the thickly populated little village of Kabjee. Every 
man, woman, and child — if we might judge from their 
number, and the comparatively few huts which seemed 
to contain them — turned out in wondering expectation 
to see us ; the women and children wearing the unpic- 
turesque ' saree ' of the plains, which is nothing more nor 
less than a sheet made to envelope the figure from head 
to foot. Dogs either barked furiously or set up a piteous 
howl as we approached ; and everything betokened gene- 
ral disturbance and bouleversement, our advent altogether 
seeming to be resented as an intrusion. 

Pioneered by Catoo, who met us at the entrance of 
the village, we arrived at length at a small patch of 
grazing ground, enclosed Math wormwood bushes, which 
at this elevation grow to a height of eight or ten feet. 
Here our tents were already pitched, to the evident 
astonishment of the people, the women especially, who, 
hiding themselves in the copse, peered at us in solemn 
and silent wonder, and apparently with no sm?ill fear. 



484 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

There were a number of cows near us ; but although 
we had intruded ourselves upon their especial domain, 
they only looked at us with large meek eyes, stopping to 
chew the cud now and then, but feeling far too lazy 
seemingly to wonder very much at anything. 

Whilst our people were lighting fires, &c., C , 

shouldering his gun, sallied forth to the village to see 
what he could obtain for dinner, and observing some 
moorghees within the enclosure of one of the huts as he 
passed through, he essayed to become their happy pos- 
sessor. On presenting himself at the door of the hut, 
however, he found it to be that of no less a person than 
the chief or ' head-man,' to whom he confided his wishes ; 
at which the old fellow, shaking his head, assured him 
that they were consecrated to his deity, and that conse- 
quently he could not have them. Whereupon C in- 
formed him that, as far as his own feelings were con- 
cerned, the fact he mentioned was no objection whatever, 
adding that, much as he regretted to hear it on his — the 
chief's — account, he meant to have them notwithstanding. 
There was also a fat young kid within the hut, which 

C intimated he would like as well, upon which he was 

met with a yet more indignant refusal, the old man, 
shaking his head more violently than before, declaring 
that this also was consecrated to the Deity. 

C , however, throwing down three times their 

value in silver coin, displayed his gun, signifying thereby 
that, unless supplies were forthcoming at once, he would 



KABJEE. 485 

be under the painful necessity of taking them by force, — 
a mode of reasoning which was followed by the happiest 
results ; for both the kid and moorgkees were borne away 

in triumph by C , and handed over to the tender 

mercies of the ' bawarchi,' who soon sacrificed them to 
gods terrestrial instead. 

Details such as these are to my mind the most pain- 
ful belonging to camp life. Careful as one ever is to 
avoid them, sights and sounds will occasionally obtrude 
themselves; and I must confess that, hungry as I have 
often been after a long day's march, I have found it very 
difficult — having caught sight of the shepherd leading one 
of our little flock to the slaughter in the morning — to 
' return to our mutton ' with anything like an appetite in 
the evening. 

The Kabjeeites, finding at length that we were a just 
and generous people, intending to pay liberally for what we 
obtained — which I fancy is the reverse of their experience, 
in a country where * might ' to a great extent overrules 
' right,' — timid black- eyed Susans came offering eggs for 
sale ; whilst others brought milk and honey, with which 
this land seems literally overflowing. They also pro- 
duced untempting-looking butter, which they presented 
in a plantain-leaf, in the absence of a more ' lordly dish,' 
and we might soon have possessed ourselves of a suffi- 
ciency of everything for the remainder of the journey, 
had we so chosen ; but provision for more than our 
wants from day to day is now happily unnecessary, as 



we shall henceforth be near enough to villages, to re- 
plenish our stores at the end of almost each day's 
march. 

Dinner over, and the moorghee disposed of, we sit 
round the fire as usual, but more from habit than neces- 
sity, being now at a comparatively warm altitude. Our 
surroundings, however, are very singular, and by no 
means reassuring as evening wears on, the wormwood 
copse concealing numerous huts, whose existence we 
discover only by the columns of smoke, which now begin 
almost to suffocate us ; whilst the red glare of the fires, 
seen through the bushes in every direction, not only 
amongst the wormwood, but all up the hill-side, and the 
black figures, half hidden, half seen, as they stand or squat 
before them, look more demoniacal and witch-like than 
I can describe. 

Knowing the habits of the natives, and how they turn 
night into day, we entertain small hopes of sleep. They 
have already begun their orgies, and our camp, bivouacked 
in various parts of the village, seem also to have made up 
their minds to have ' a night of it,' and to keep festival 
together, for they are already shouting and singing in a 
very inharmonious manner. I dare say the poor fellows 
are making up for their long fast, as well as partaking 
rather too freely of the intoxicating niurzua. But little 
Rags, as is his wont, refusing to join the festive throng, 
sits apart from the rest, and once more tells his love 
to the listening stars ; and a very hopeless one it must be. 



judging from the plaintive strains he produces, — a great 
contrast to the wild Thibetan songs with which the rest 
are favouring us. 

There is nothing more characteristic of the prevailing 
feelings and habits of a people than their music. Thus 
that of the Bhootias and Nepaulese is essentially a manly- 
music, differing vastly from the nasal strains drawled out 
by the effeminate Plainsmen ; whilst that of the Lepchas, 
as a purely nomad race, has naturally a softer and more 
plaintive character. 

On entering our tent at an early hour, our expecta- 
tions are fully realised, although in rather a different 
manner from that which we anticipated, for we find it over- 
run with monster caterpillars, which have already crawled 
over the mattresses and up the ' kernaughts.' As usual, 

F slept soundly after his long march, such slight 

disagreeables making small impression upon his slumbers ; 
but I, unfortunately, am one whom a crumpled roseleaf 
would keep awake. Then more than one of the cows — 
which also seem to be bad sleepers - had bells round 
their necks, which kept up a constant tinkling the live- 
long night. ' Music hath charms,' but defend me from 
the companionship of a musical cow after a long day's 
march. They also came sniffing and snorting about us, 
poking their noses under the flaps, and sending in blasts of 
warm moist air, no doubt wondering what all this intrusion 
of foreign matter in their midst could possibly mean. In 
truth nothing ever really seems to sleep at night in India. 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



Towards the small hours we both heard, as we 
fancied, a very suspicious noise witJiin the tent. From 
the first we had not taken kindly to the dwellers of this 

village, and opening- his eyes, F saw by the feeble 

light afforded by the lantern a pair of legs, apparently 
belonging to some abominable wretch who was trying to 
conceal himself under his bed. Fully awake this time, he 
was up, and had seized his rifle, which was already loaded 
in readiness for any emergency that might arise. But 
magnanimously wishing to give him an opportunity of 
either making his escape, or coming to a hand-to-hand 
fight, he shouted to the owner of the legs in Hindustani, 

threatening to fire with- 
out further ceremony, un- 
less he took himself off 
that instant. The owner 
of the legs, however — 
contrary to our expecta- 
tions — appearing in no 
wise disconcerted by this 
appalling threat, we found, on closer and more calm ex- 
amination, that they were no other than F --'s harmless 

mocassins, which had assumed such an alarming attitude 
when he released himself of them for the night. But 
altogether our first impressions of Kabjee are anything 
but pleasing. 

Morning breaking, we partake of the usual ' Chota 
hazree,' and then stroll out to have a look at the village 




KABJEE. 489 

and its inhabitants. The latter are very squalid and 
dirty, and I should say are anything but a thriving people. 
The huts, too, are of the very worst description, and as 
usual, fowls, goats, and pigs roam about the common 
apartment, and seem to live on affectionate terms with 
its dwellers. The village contains the usual number of 
cripples and impotent folk that one sees everywhere in 
the East, except in the higher elevations, where every 
kind of personal deformity is almost wholly unknown. 
They turn out to see us as we pass, and form a very 
motley and nondescript group. 

By this time they have learnt to regard us as an un- 
aggressive people ; and a man standing outside invited 
us to enter his homestead. Several women and children 
were squatting behind the door as we entered, but, imme- 
diately on seeing us, scuttled away like so many mice. 
At the end of the apartment a large fire was burning on 
a stone hearth, on which sat an old veteran, watching 
the boiling of a pot ; whilst beneath the ragged thatch 
were cross beams, from which quivers and sheaths for 
arrows were suspended ; the arrows, which we examined 
afterwards, being barbed and poisoned. 

These semi-barbarians are evidently embued with 
notions of hospitality, for they offered us milk, as well as 
a leathery-looking compound very like chupattee. Look- 
ing over a hurdle, which barely divided them from the 
family mansion, we saw two yaks, beautiful creatures, the 
size of large oxen ; their hair hanging to their flanks in 



490 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



thick masses, and magnificent bushy tails, almost reaching 
to the ground, their ears being pierced and adorned 
with tassels of scarlet wool. The whole time we were 
looking at them they kept up a subdued chorus of short 
emphatic groans or grunts, a habit peculiar to all the 
bovine races in these hills. The inhabitants of the hut 




then brought blankets for our inspection, which were made 
from the silky hair of these animals. 

In appearance the people themselves are very diffe- 
rent from both Bhootias and Lepchas, and, except that 
their complexion is fair, they resemble the Bengalee, 
strange as it may seem, both in dress and feature, far 
more than any of the hill tribes. Not only the 
women but the men also envelope themselves in a large 
coarse linen sheet, and I observed none of the pretty 



KABJEE. 



491 



striped woollen fabrics manufactured by the industrious 
Bhootias. Their customs, however, seemed to be similar 
to those of the hill people generally ; for amongst other 
things I observed a churn for concocting that delicious 
compound tea-soup, such as I had seen in use at Dar- 
jeeling, and a stone for grinding dried milk, together 
with iron pipes for smoking * Tsceang.' Discovering that 

F was a smoker, they next pressed him, with genuine 

hospitality, to take a turn at the family ' hubble-bubble ; ' 
a favour, however, he politely declined, presenting them 
with some cigars instead, which they graciously deigned 
to accept. 




49 2 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 



CHAPTER XLVII. 

THE SOUBAH INTRODUCES US TO HIS SMALL FAMILY. 

Numbers turn out to witness the process of tent- 
striking at eleven o'clock, but taking care to stand 
at a safe and respectful distance, feeling a little 
afraid of us still. Old men and women, hobbling 
on sticks, come forth from their huts to see the show ; 
and little children, led by almond-eyed mothers, to 
whom they cling half-affrighted, peep shyly from be- 
hind their ' sarees^ and regard us with much the same 
curiosity and admiration as English children would 
evince at an itinerant menagerie, no doubt thinking we 
are a species of wild beast on ticket-of-leave, but on no 
account to be approached beyond certain limits. 

All follow at a distance as we quit the village, and 
we soon begin to descend in an easterly direction to the 
valley of the Kullait, the roar of whose waters we had 
heard continually ever since leaving its banks yesterday. 
From this spot it flows on beneath the Pemionchi and 
Hee mountains for a further distance of twenty-six miles, 
and then falls into the great Rungheet. 

We now find ourselves in the midst of cultivations of 



sugar-cane, and pretty little patches of cotton surround- 
ing tiny villages, which from afar look very snug and 
comfortable. Our advent to this part of the world has 
evidently been noised abroad, probably reaching them 
from Kabjee, for as we proceed we can descry the in- 
habitants in the distance assembled outside their huts, 
some standing on high balconies, whilst others have 
even climbed to the very top of the thatch, waiting to 
see us pass. As we approach, they view us with keen 
and wondering interest, staring at us just as doubtless 
we should have done had we been told that the Man- 
in-the-moon, or some other apocryphal creature we had 
heard of, but never believed in, had actually turned out 
to be real and was come to dwell among us. / am 
apparently the great object of attraction. An English- 
man may possibly have been seen within the memory 
of the * oldest inhabitant,' but the genus Englishwoman 
never. 

Observing plantations of trees resembling the mul- 
berry, Tendook, now quite at home in his own country, 
informs me that it is ting, from which the poison is 
extracted by which they catch fish. Scrambling down 
through fields of sugar-cane, we cut the ripe and suc- 
culent sticks, the juice of which is deliciously refresh- 
ing ; and everyone, even my dandy-bearers, may be seen 
either chewing the cud of reflection, or struggling with 
the luscious cane, which being stringy is not perhaps 
exactly the thing one would care as a rule to partake of 



494 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



in public ; moreover it is not easy to be conversational 
when tugging away at it. 

' Stop ! ' cries F , similarly occupied, making 

frantic efforts to sever the irresistible cane he is masti- 
cating, and render himself intelligible : ' there's a great 
hole in front of you, and those fellows eating their sugar- 
cane don't see where they are going ! ' 

Following the banks of the river, we soon cross two 
waterfalls over frail bridges constructed of saplings tied 
together, and arrive at another ham.let, where the in- 
habitants are waiting to receive us with much pomp and 




ceremony. Three quaint-looking old men coming forward 

present C with eggs, rice, and fruit, in quaintly-carved 

wooden platters ; and I certainly never beheld, and may I 
never behold again, such grotesque and skeleton-like men 
in the flesh, or any so hopelessly ' out of drawing.' They 



A 'MEM SAHIB.' 495 

reminded me forcibly of the bassi-relievi in the British 
Museum, their joints all seeming to turn the wrong way, 
and their limbs, instead of working in concert as members 
of one body should, apparently wanting to go in contrary 
directions at the same moment ; progress consequently 
was anything but a graceful or easy task. On looking at 
them it was impossible to help fancying that they were 
originally an ' odd lot ' in Nature's workshop, only put 
together as an economical arrangement, that nothing 
might be wasted. 

One of them, a man with a face like a shrivelled 
chrysalis, after following my dandy for a considerable 
distance, and gazing at me intently the while, at length 
enquired of the bearers, his hands clasped in an attitude 
of supplication, — 

' Who are these, and what have they come for ?' 

' Who are they ? why, two great English sahibs and 
a mem sahib, sister of the Maharanee (Queen),' ex- 
claimed Nautch-wallah, grandiloquently, who probably 
thought he would shine by a reflected glory. 

' A niein sahib ! ' I hear him repeat, wonderingly, to 
himself, as though he could not quite make up his mind 
what sort of animal it could be ; ' but which of the three 
is the mem sahib ? ' And it was curious to observe how 
they all talked about me, just as if I had been deaf. 

We now come upon two singular little temples sur- 
rounded by inscriptions, and after crossing the river, 
climb the opposite mountain through scorching sunshine. 



496 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



and see a short distance before us a large number of 
people in gay attire, consisting, to our great surprise, of 
our old friend the Soubah of Mongmoo and his attendants, 
who have come to bid us welcome at the entrance of his 
domain. 

With low salaams, three out of the number, who have 
manifestly been told off with great solemnity for the pur- 
pose, approach and present us severally with a curious 
wooden machine, not unlike a small churn, containing a 
hot liquid which we are sorely puzzled to know what 
to do with ; but Tendook, as usual, coming to the rescue, 
informs us that it is imirwa, and that we must suck it 
through the little bamboo tube in the 
centre, as one does ' sherry-cobbler.' 
Here for the first time we make ac- 
quaintance with that fascinating and 
insidious beverage, which, warm as it 
was, we found particularly refreshing 
after our exertions, tasting rather like 
sherry negus, only more acid. Its 
appearance, however, is that of milk, 
with small brown seeds in it. 
When this ' function ' was at an end, the Soubah, 
dressed for the occasion in a gorgeous habiliment of olive- 
green satin, headed the procession to the borders of his 
estate. It was impossible to help being struck with the 
appearance of his retainers, who, from their dress, we 
imagined must be of the higher class of the Lepcha race. 




TJIE SO UB Airs DWELLING. 497 

Their countenances were extremely pleasing, and, coupled 
with a very manly bearing, they possessed great gentle- 
ness and sweetness of manner. 

A few more steps and we see in front of us a ruined 
fort, and find ourselves standing on a highly cultivated 
tract of table-land, fields of millet and other grain being 
neatly enclosed by little wooden palisades, giving to the 
whole quite a home-like appearance, and reminding one 
more of the peaceful ploughshare than of war. 

In the middle of this cultivation the old fort is situated, 
as well as the Soubah's dwelling — a long low range of 
thatched buildings, surrounded by a balcony and court- 
yard, shut in by high walls. Here we are invited to 
enter, and are not a little surprised to find about thirty 
women and children assembled to receive us. All 
are wonderfully fair, with wax-like complexions of a 
peculiar yellow tinge, and with a well-defined crimson 
spot on their cheeks, which is produced by a pigment 
made from a plant one frequently sees in the jungle, and 
which gives the appearance of rouge clumsily put on. 

Like the rest, they also appear to be got up for the 
occasion as far as cleanliness is concerned, for their dress, 
though very simple in pattern and limited in quantity, con- 
sisting merely of the linen saree, is scrupulously clean. In 
this respect they form an appalling contrast to the Soubah, 
who would seem to regard a lack of personal cleanliness 
as his special privilege, and as some high prerogative 
denied to the weaker sex. 



498 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

After some little conversation, carried on through the 
medium of Narboo, exchange of civilities seemed to have 

come to an end ; when, following the Soubah, F and 

C went to inspect the fort, which has its bastions, 

but is anything but an imposing or warlike structure. 
I meanwhile remained behind with the women-folk, 
and endeavoured to prolong the colloquy through the 
same medium of communication, asking them how they 
managed to spend their time, &c. ; at which they pointed 
to their sarees, which they said they wove themselves, 
and thence to a distant held, where I imagine flax was 
growing. Presently I observed three women approach- 
ing whom I had not seen before, one of whom carried 
a soda-water bottle containing some spirituous compound, 
which I was invited to drink. From this grievous in- 
fliction, however, I happily excused myself by saying 
I had already had as much murwa at the entrance to 
their domain as my head would stand. The soda-water 
bottle was apparently regarded as a precious and very 
r^^/^^r^/^/possession, probably purchased in the Darjeeling 
Bazaar, and used out of compliment to my nationality, 
wood being the only material of which their household 
vessels are made. One of the women, with evident pride, 
bade Narboo tell me, as a piece of information, that it 
was an English bottle, and that it had once contained 
balatee pawnee (English water), it being a common notion 
all over India amongst the natives that the liquid these 
bottles contain is that of our English rivers and lakes. 



CAUSE OF DELAY IN TJJE ARRIVAL OF FOOD. 499 

which they no doubt imagine to exist in a perpetual state 
of hz. 

Here I must mention, in explanation of the extra- 
ordinary delay in the arrival of food, and our consequent 
distress, for which at the time we were inclined to blame 
the Soubah, that he assured us he despatched our messen 
gers with the necessary supplies of food without a day's 
delay, but that, their own hunger appeased, and forgetful 
of the urgent needs of their fellows, they must have 
lingered by the w^ay, gossiping with the villagers ; an 
apathy and want of consideration for the well-being of 
others which, I am sorry to say, is very characteristic of 
all these hill tribes. 




THE soubah's small family. 



500 THE INDIAN A IPS. 



CHAPTER XLVIII. 

WE ENCAMP ON THE BANKS OF THE KULLAIT. 

Our Soubah does not bid us adieu here, but accom- 
panies us a short distance beyond his domain, as by this 
time we have learnt that Lepcha etiquette constrains him 
to do ; and then returns, no doubt to chronicle our arrival 
and departure in the archives of Sikkim. All labour 
seems to be suspended, this being apparently regarded as 
a general holiday. Each peasant we meet is dressed in 
red-letter-day attire ; whilst the women, according to their 
wont, endeavour to conceal themselves in bush or brake, 
or between the green recesses of Indian corn, whence 
they timidly watch us pass. 

After wending our way through fields of grain which 
enclosed us completely on either side, we reached a little 
spot which had evidently been cleared recently. In the 
centre stood a group of well-dressed Lepchas, who ap- 
proaching begged that w^e would here encamp. It looked 
so snug and thoroughly clean, that it seemed ungracious 
to refuse, the more so as the space must have been cleared 
at some personal sacrifice, the ripening corn having been 



ON THE BANKS OF THE KUJJ.AIT. 



501 



cut down for the purpose ; but we had scarcch' yet acconi- 
pHshed half a day's march, and must fain push on. 

In anticipation of our arrival, paths have been made 
ever)where ; and, entering a magnificent forest, we find 
ourselves on the summit of a mountain which bounds the 
Kullait, and look down upon the foaming river through 
stately trees, from which air-roots, hanging forty or fifty 
feet in length, sway to and fro in the breeze. Beyond 
these rise mountain- 
tops blue as heaven, 
like mighty sentinels 
shutting in the vale. 

The descent to 
the river is almost 
perpendicular, but a 
narrow zig-zag path- 
way having been cut, 
we are enabled to 
reach its banks in 
safety. The baggage ,gl}''^!^ "^^'J^^"^"' /^'} 
coolies are in the 
most alarming state 
of spirits, and very boisterous besides — the result of the 
miLriva they no doubt obtained on passing through each 
village to-day. It is wonder! ul to see how they scramble 
down, regardless of the path, simply catching hold of 
the branches or air roots, and springing from one to the 
other like monkeys, yet never meeting with accidents. 




-*-, r- 



502 THE INDIAN AIPS. 



Following the river, and coming to a piece of level 

ground suitable for encampment, C calls a halt ; and 

we once more come to anchor in one of the gorgeous, 
narrow, and V-shaped valleys of the Himalaya, all of 
which possess, not only in the character of their vegetation, 
but in general features, such distinct marks of difference, 
that each has a beauty all its own, and there is no same- 
ness in any. 

The gorge here forms a ail de sac, at the end of which 
the Kullait falls about 300 feet over huge blocks of 
gneiss, and then flows on again, a broad river, with tre- 
mendous speed and ceaseless roar, walled in by precipitous 
forests of 8000 feet. We are now in the region of 
flowers, too, which adorn many of the bushes near us, as 
well as the noble forest trees which feather down to the 
water's brink. It is sweet, indeed, after all we have 
suffered, to bask in these asphodel pastures, and quaff 
nectar from Nature's own goblet, as we drink in all the 
luscious beauty around, gathering flowers without moving, 
and reducing laziness to a science — feeling for once that we 
can indulge in indolence without self-reproach, for there 
is nothing to be done but to rest, and make ourselves 

perfectly happy. Meanwhile F sits beside me in that 

heaven known only to smokers, which makes them throw 
their heads back, and drink in existence with each puff of 
their cirar, as though it contained for them a form of 
Elysium of which the rest of the world are wholly un- 
conscious. 




WW" 



THE DESOLATE HEIGHTS OF SINGALEELAH. 



OiV THE BANKS OF THE KULLAIT 503 

But we are not long left to our meditations, for the 
peasantry, having followed us, bring offerings of milk and 
honey, as well as millet and other things for sale. One of 
these, a man of about eight-and-twenty years, possessed 
such great beauty of feature and expression that I longed 
to be able to send him to my own land as a model for a 

painter. F called my attention to him first, making 

him stand in a position where I could best see him ; and 
truly his was no ordinary type of beauty. He had large 
earnest eyes, and a far-off look, as though the mystery 
of existence were too mighty for his comprehension ; and 
there were sad lines in his face besides, as though he 
had an ideal he could not grasp, and deep thoughts 
within him that he felt unable to express. He was 
evidently one of those inconsistencies of nature one 
sometimes meets with — an exotic in an unkindly soil, 
and in a region where It cannot thrive — and we felt 
instinctively that he was far above his fellows. 

In common with the Lepchas of Darjeeling, all those 
we meet with here wear the striped scarf, or toga, than 
which nothing can be more classical or full of grace 
They also part the hair down the centre of the head, 
either plaiting it neatly in a qtieue, which reaches con- 
siderably below the waist, or allowing it to fall in natural 
curls. They have neither beard nor whiskers, both being 
carefully eradicated. 

The women of this district, however, in their unpic- 
turesque sarees, form a great contrast to their sisters of 



the higher elevations ; and Fanchyng, in her pretty 
bright- coloured dress, appears to be a source of admira- 
tion, not only in the eyes of her own, but in those of the 
opposite sex likewise. In these warm localities she is fast 
getting the better of her fever, as is also her brother, it 
being the excessive cold which developes it, nine times 
out of ten, in the case of these mountaineers. 

Little Goboon now presents himself with his best 
face on, having washed it especially for the occasion, 
out of consideration to my peculiar prejudices ; and, 
blushing like a girl, hands me a plate of yams, or bookh 
as they call them, which he had dug up on his way 
hither, and which I promise him I will have cooked for 
dinner. The Shikaree also comes laden with game, and 
we seem all at once to have reached the land of Goshen. 
Walking along in the direction of our camp, we ob- 
serve a singular old man, who, with his long robe, staff, 
and hoary beard, might have come straight out of a 
hermit's cell. He was a bajooa^ they said, or Lepcha 
priest, who had I fancy followed them from Kabjee — a 
people supposed to have the power of exorcising evil 
spirits, and who are called in to officiate at the religious 
ceremonies attending marriages, births, and deaths. A 
propos of the latter, I once had an opportunity of witness- 
ing one of the singular customs of these hill tribes. 

The daughter of one of our servants — a Lepcha or 
Limboo, I forget which — was dying, and he asked me to 
go and see her, A bajooa had already been sent for, and 



ON THE BANKS OF THE KULLAIT. 505 

arriving- at the hut, I found him standing by her side 
with his praying cyHnder, which he twirled with one hand, 
whilst he waved the other over her, muttering some form 
of incantation the while. Then seating himself on the 
floor, he commenced chanting in a dismal tone, occasion- 
ally having recourse to cymbals which he had brought 
with him, and which he clashed as loudly as he could. 

But the evil spirit, notwithstanding all these combined 
efforts, obstinately refusing to come out of her, and her 
pulse on the contrary gradually becoming more and more 
flickering, he came at last to the conclusion that it was a 
case beyond his skill, and proceeded forthwith to perform 
the last offices. Making a fire close to the entrance to 
the hut, he held a shallow iron vessel over it, in which a 
quantity oi ghee had been placed, and as the smoke, like 
unsavoury incense, arose from the boiling mass, he prayed 
that her death might be speedy and painless : the whole 
presenting to my mind such a pathetic jumble that death 
itself seemed half robbed of its solemnity. Soon after I 
left the poor girl she breathed her last ; and then a gun 
was fired, for the double purpose of announcing to the 
gods the departure of another soul, and to speed it on 
its way. 

Lepchas, although reputed Buddhists, attribute, in 
common with the Limboos, every kind of disease to the 
agency of evil spirits, and, as far as I can ascertain, ap- 
pear to combine a great deal of Hindooism with their 
creed. 



Our tents being now pitched, F opens mysterious 

and long-forgotten boxes, and overhauls his birds and 
insects, which have been sadly neglected of late ; whilst I 
get out my needle and thread, and set to work prosaically, 
to mend the holes in the canvas, made on the moun- 
tains by our men in their endeavours to beat off the 
frost which accumulated each night, and which added so 
greatly to its weight in carrying. At the same time 

C takes out his gun, examining it lovingly and 

tenderly as men do, and cleans it. In short, all suddenly 
awaken — now that our troubles are over — as to a new life, 
feeling once more that the trifles of existence are worth 
attending to, and concern us still. 

Then the gentle Lepchas, having eaten their evening 
meal, come down to the river's brink, and reverently 
sprinkle water over themselves, as I once saw them do 
at the Rungheet, either to invoke the protection of the 
river-god, or to propitiate that watery deity. Sitting 
on its margin in the golden light, I find myself getting 
into a train of thought on the universal tendency there 
is in every human heart, even amongst races the most 
savage and primitive, to a worship of some sort — 
worship of the supernatural — a worship of something 
higher than itself; and happier far and better is even he 
that ignorantly worships wood and stone than the 'fool,' 
as David calls him, ' who says there is no God.' 

As the sun sets behind the mountains that enclose 
the gorge, a chill creeps over us ; and gathering round the 



ON THE BANKS OF THE KULLAIT. 



507 



camp fire, we sit in the falling twilight, scarcely breaking 
silence, our feelings harmonising with the stillness of the 
hour. No sound is heard, for the men of our camp, worn 
out by their own uproariousness, are fast asleep ; and soli- 
tude finds expression solely in the chirp of the grass- 
hopper, and the peaceful roar of the river. Then darkness 
at length takes form : shadows, vague, weird, and mys- 
terious, seem to come out of it together with the stars, 
and the ' Milky Way ' shines brightly in the purple dome, 
believed by some of the ancients to be the pathway 
trodden by the spirits of the blest, on their way to 
Paradise. Within this circle of silence we feel part of 
very Nature herself; our lives, and the things that we 
know must come, seeming only half true, and the past all 
a dream. 





CHAPTER XLIX. 

THE KAJEE OF YANTING. 

The dew was on the grass, and the mist still hovering 
beneath the summit of the mountain, when we struck 
tents the following morning, wishing if possible to reach 
Pemionchi before the setting of another sun. 

Just as we were starting, Catoo came to announce 
that the kitmutgar was ill, as well as many others ; all 
of whom are no doubt suffering from repletion, having 
eaten too much after their long season of fast, as well as 
from having partaken far more freely of 'murwa' than 
was good for them. Several men, looking exceedingly 

miserable, draw up in a line before C , begging for 

quinine — a thing, however, he refuses to give them on 
this occasion, knowing it would do them harm. Quinine 
is such a wonderful remedy in cases of fever, that the 
natives regard it as a panacea, not only for that malady, 
but for every other ill to which flesh is heir. 

The ascent of the gorge is not less steep on this side 
than that by which we descended to the river yesterday, 
and occupies three hours. Then leaving the forest 
behind, we travel along the declivity of a barren moun- 



SEPOYS OF THE KAJEE OF YANTING. 509 

tain for some considerable time ; and at length recoe- 
nising- in the distance an indication of a stream — which 
may always be traced by a fringe of deeper and more 
vivid green following its windings — we make for the 
spot, and throwing ourselves down by its side, await the 
cooking of our breakfast, whilst listening to the music of 
the streamlet, for, trickling over its pebbly bed, it pro- 
duced a melody like that of far-off bells. 

Starting on our way again at noon, we traversed a 
broad pathway for some miles, and were presently met 
by six Sepoys of the Kajee of Yanting's guard — that old 
ruffian, who not only failed to send us food, exposing us 
to the danger of perishing in the mountains — which was 
no doubt precisely what he intended we should do — but 
who succeeded some years ago in driving the English 
troops out of a place called Rinchingpoong, which they 
were inimically holding as an aggression on Sikkim. 

These Sepoys were tall and exceedingly handsome 
fellows, beautifully clean, 
both in person and dress, 
with a pleasing but rather 
effeminate expression of 
countenance, their appear- 
ance the reverse of warlike, 
as I hinted to Tendook ; 

whereupon he informed me, in an apologetic tone, that 
they were at present out of uniform, assuring me at the 
same time, with a look of great importance, that their 




5IO THE INDIAN ALPS. 

military equipment was something very imposing ! The 
non-combatant dress of these men, however, was certainly 
by far the most picturesque I have yet seen in Sikkim. 
It consisted of the striped Lepcha kirtle beneath a short 
tunic of scarlet cloth, large full sleeves of black holland 
closed at the wrist, and a broad-brimmed conical hat, sur- 
rounded by a band of black velvet, which, with their long 
knives hanging from their girdles, gave them the appear- 
ance of bandits in a scene at the Opera. 

Each man as he approached made a bow that I 
defy an Englishman, or Bengalee either, to come up to for 
real grace ; and having presented us with * mtcrwa^ they 
preceded us to the house of the Kajee, whom we found 
standing at the entrance, an immensely fat and obese 
specimen of humanity, the very image of an inflated 
Chinaman. He wore the conventional pigtail and a 
robe of very rich brocaded satin, apparently sky-blue 
once, but now, alas ! wofully departed from its pristine 
glory ; and it is only truthful to add, though I do so with 
extreme reluctance, that he was the most insufferably 
dirty individual I ever beheld, and in this respect he took 
pre-eminence even of our old friend the Soubah, as be- 
came the greater dignity of his position ! 

It is passing strange why the retainers of these 
Sikkim magnates should be so well kempt and scrupu- 
lously clean, and they themselves so dirty, except it be, as I 
have already suggested,that that quality is reserved as the 
prerogative of the great only in this half-barbarous country! 



THE KAJEE OF Y ANTING. 



5u 



He and his Sepoys now lead the way to a smooth knoll 
above the house, where we find extensive and very start- 
ling arrangements made for our reception in the shape of 
three seats all in a row, formed of piles of square cushions 
covered with silk of richest texture, placed one upon the 
other, — the seat of honour, which was appropriated to 

C , being a little higher than the rest, and erected in 

the centre. Hither the Kajee conducted him, merely vio- 
tioningus to our seats, and afterwards threw himself down 
upon a little island of carpet opposite, where he sat cross- 
legged, the Sepoys standing behind him with folded arms. 

Then once more arrived the irrepressible ' murwa! 
Really the perpetual drinking of this beverage is becom- 
ing quite a serious affair. 
We are obliged to accept 
it, however, having ascer- 
tained that to refuse would 
be to do violence to the 
rules of Sikkim etiquette; 
but we simply hold it un- 
tasted in our hands, look- 
ing like three Sphinxes, as 
we sit demurely all in a 
row with our ' chongas ' in our hands gazing at the fat 
Kajee; nor could I help wondering how — the performance 
being ended, if ever it should end — he would manage to 
unfold himself, and assume a standing position again. 

Although these men are great personages after 




their own fashion, their abodes are most untidy and 
wretched, and they seem to have no idea of the common 
decencies of Hfe. That of the Kajee was the most de- 
plorable thing in the shape of habitation it was possible 
to conceive ; and whilst sitting opposite this old aristo- 
crat, arrayed in his gorgeous apparel, his triple chin, 
and body undulating and corpulent — all the very per- 
sonification of indolent luxury — my ear was greeted with 
the unmistakable cadence of pigs, and my eyes following 
the direction of the sound, I observed a numerous estab- 
lishment of those interesting animals— certainly, I should 
say, belonging not to one, but to many families— dodging 
in and out, and burrowing under the very balcony of the 
mansion. 

Whilst C and the Kajee were conversing on 

diplomatic affairs, the peasantry approached silently, and 
standing behind the Sepoys formed a motley crowd, 
the women wearing sarees of which the prevailing colours 
were red and yellow. 

It is not easy to realise that this same Kajee, now 
so sleek and smiling, was the very man who, as I hinted 
elsewhere, not only made a prisoner of Dr. Campbell, then 
Deputy Commissioner and Superintendent of British 
Sikkim, but almost starved him and his party. This 
gentleman was simply travelling in the ' Interior' as we 
are doing, accompanied by Dr. Hooker, the great botanist, 
whose chief object was herborisation, and for which 
purpose the Governor-General of India had made a 



THE KAJEE OF YANTING. 513 



special request to the Rajah, to afford him every facility 
whilst travelling in his territory. Not only was this 
request not complied with, but every obstacle was placed 
in his way. At length they were attacked by fifty or 
sixty soldiers headed by this man — then Soubah of Sing- 
tam- -who knocked Dr. Campbell down, bound him hand 
and foot, tightened the cords by means of a bamboo 
wrench to torture him, held a poisoned arrow to his ear, 
threatening to draw the bow if he moved but one 
inch, jumped upon his ribs, bent his neck down over 
his chest with intent to break it, and finally sat upon 
him. It is sincerely to be hoped that the Kajee had 
not then attained the magnificent proportions he at pre- 
sent possesses ; nor could he, for, as everybody knows, 
Dr. Campbell lived to tell the tale. 

Singular to relate, Narboo, our interpreter, then a com- 
paratively young man, accompanied them also on their ex- 
pedition and was imprisoned likewise ; his captivity only 
lasting a fortnight, when he was released; the Kajee at the 
same time magnanimously offering freedom to Dr. Hooker, 
remarking, 'You are only a poor harmless' leaf-collector 
— you may go.' Of this offer I need scarcely say Dr. 
Hooker did not avail himself, being unwilling to leave 
his friend alone in the hands of an uncivilised ruffian. 

At this juncture the peaceful Lamas came down from 
the monastery to reason with the Kajee. 

' What good will it do you,' said the)^ ' to keep two 
Englishmen in prison ? Already an army under the 



514 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

command of British Princes has arrived at the foot of the 
hills to obtain their release, and so vast is it that, like 
locusts, they have destroyed the whole country, and there 
is not a leaf on the trees left.' 

Thus intimidated — for the Lamas' words are generally 
believed to be prophetic — the Kajee had already decided 
to act upon their advice, when news reached him that 
soldiers were actually marching from Darjeeling for the 
purpose ; and although, for our disappointment in not 
finding the food which he promised awaiting us, he en- 
deavoured to excuse himself by saying that the heavy 
fall of snow had prevented the men he had despatched 
with it from reaching the appointed places, yet we know 
full well that no snow had fallen on Mount Singaleelah, to 
which place it was to have been in the first instance sent; 
and the inference may easily be drawn : but it is well to 
bear in mind that we are in an alien country, and the old 
adage, ' least said soonest mended,' is a wise precaution. 

Resuming our journey, we now ascend a winding 
path behind the Kajee's house, which ushers us after an 
hour's climb into the sacred forest of Pemionchi, consist- 
ing principally of magnolia, walnut, oak, and maple, the 
mossy banks on each side of our pathway being studded 
with the wild strawberry and wood violet. After a plea- 
sant march of three hours, we reach an opening in the 
forest and see several monks running to meet us with 
unaffected signs of welcome. Hereupon we exchanged 
salaams, gesticulated, exchanged salaams again, and once 



WE ARE WELCOMED BY THE MONKS. 515 



more gesticulated eloquently ; and then finding there was 
nothing more to do, and that we were unable to pursue 
civilities further, we one and all laughed heartily. Our 
greeting with these monks, therefore, was at any rate 
cheery, if not quite intelligible ; and they looked so 
thoroughly jovial that we found it impossible, even in 
their severe monastic dress, to gaze at them without 
smiling. 

Our encampment was situated on an artificially raised 
mound flattened on the top, on which were two ancient 
ruins, resembling altars, very suggestive of human sacri- 
fices in years gone by. The tents had all been pitched, 
and large fires lighted in readiness for us, which were 
very welcome, for we are now at an elevation of seven 
thousand feet, and the climate, after the almost tropical 
valleys we have passed through, seemed piercingly cold. 
Here we found all our people whom we sent on from 
Mount Singaleelah, and they were not only well, but 
testifying by their looks the good cheer they had ex- 
perienced at the hands of the monks since their arrival. 

Then came more monks bringing presents of fowls, 
eggs, milk, and ' murwa,' till we were soon surrounded 
by a crowd of them, all seeming very desirous of entering 
into conversation, which, in Narboo's absence, however, 
w^as found to be an impossibility. These Lamas are 
very fine specimens of the Mongolian race, being alto- 
gether exceedingly intelligent-looking fellows. Their 
heads are closely shaven and their feet unshod, their 



dress a long loose garment of coarse garnet-coloured 
serge, tied round the waist with a girdle ; whilst the neck 
and chest being left bare and displaying a rosary, they 
appear, thus equipped, very orthodox monks. 

Just below our tent is a large ' mendong,' sur- 
mounted by a cupola of very beautiful design, the outer 
walls of which are covered with inscriptions carved on 
chlorite slate. The Goompa or monastery itself stands 
on a hill a quarter of a mile distant, and as far as we 
can yet see is a quaint mass of masonry, the walls of which 
slope outwards from the vertical. 

We had just dined, and I was lying down within my 
tent, weary of the day's ceremonies — for we seemed 
suddenly to have arrived at the big world again — when 
we were greeted by the most awful and unearthly noises 
it is possible to imagine. That it proceeded from the 
Goompa, and was produced by some enormous instrument, 
I could not doubt ; and if one could liken it to anything 
terrestrial, it might be said to resemble the trumpeting of 
an elephant, combined with the groans of a camel in 
extreme pain. Now the sound almost died away, now 
again it burst forth in renewed agony, till the very air 
vibrated. Continuing thus for the space of half an hour, 
it suddenly descended into unutterable bass, where it 
got quite beside itself, and floundered about madly. 
Some other instruments, very like hurdy-gurdies, now 
joined in, and carried on the strains in the treble, as if 
giants were disporting themselves on proportionately 



large instruments, the camel meanwhile sustaining its 
groans in the bass, working itself each moment into a 
greater pitch of frenzy, till the sun disappeared behind the 
mountains, when all sound gradually subsided, and the 
votaries of Budh, who until that instant had been standing 
about us, idly gossiping with each of our men in turn, 
obeyed this uninviting summons to vespers, and left us 
with all speed. 

Wondering very much about the monks and their 
strange religion, as we sat upon the slabs of the ruined 
mendong, on the lowest step of which our fire was burn- 
ing, we wandered back in thought to the Druids, of whom 
these quaint people forcibly reminded us, when the priests 
of the Celtic nations worshipped in groves and had their 
human sacrifices ; not that the Buddhists are like them in 
this respect, but they have their sacred groves as we 
have seen, the Goompa standing in the very midst of one. 
Like the Druids they also have their priestesses, and 
believe not only in metempsychosis, or transmigration of 
souls, but in the immortality of the soul likewise. The 
singular flat piece of masonry upon which the mystic 
words, Om — Mani — Padmi — Om, are carved in bas-relief 
had probably once been an altar. These words are in 
the Thibetan alphabet, but the language itself is so ex- 
ceedingly old that no one knows their precise meaning. 
All, however, agree that it is some form of invocation to 
the Deity, Some averring that it means ' Oh, receive 
me into thine essence!' others, 'To Him!' or, 'Hail to 



Him of the Lotus and the Jewel!' whilst others, again, 
declare that the first and last word, ' Om,' means sacrifice. 

On reaching this place we found a ' chowkeydar,' 
who had arrived from Darjeeling with letters and 

despatches for C . Amongst them were two letters for 

ourselves, dated a fortnight ago ; one of them enclosing a 
quaint little epistle from Lattoo, who, unable to write a 
letter herself, had, as she expressed it, ' told her words 
to a " letter- writer " at the bazaar.' She had been ' very 
much sick,' she said, since I left. * Sometime plenty 
cold, sometime too much warm ; plenty tired now, bones 
growing big, no more hunger but plenty pain ; no spin, 
no drive buffalo up where mem sahib used to write the 
trees and the mountains.' And she wound up all by 
telling me she was going to ' the land where the flowers 
never die.' 

Thus ran the letter with the exception of the spelling, 
and her saying that her ' bones were getting big,' which 
was her way of telling me she was growing thin, touched 
me more than aught else. Lattoo's sole idea of the Chris- 
tian's heaven had always been that of a sort of green 
paradise ; her notion of ' fadeless flowers ' having been 
gathered from the hymns she had been taught by the 
missionary's wife, with whom she lived when a child. 

The moment I read her letter I sat down to reply to 
it in language as simple as possible. I told her she must 
not take such a desponding view of her illness ; she was 
not yet to go to the land ' where the flowers never fade,' 



LETTER FROM LATTOO. 



519 



but get well if it pleased God, and live to gather many in 
the valley of the sweet Rungnoo, and bring them to me 
as she did last year, and be herself my Alpine flower 
once more. I should soon be safely home again I hoped, 
when I would send for an English doctor to see her at 
my house, and then after a little while she would be as 
strong as ever. But I retired to rest, feeling very sad 
notwithstanding, and wishing after all that I had brought 
her with me. 




520 THE INDJAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER L. 



THE MONKS OF PEMIONCHL 



About three o'clock on the following morning, just 
as we were in the very soundest sleep, we were awakened 
by the same wild noises, which sounded if possible even 
more unearthly in the darkness than they had done the 
previous evening. As soon as the sun had risen I 
dressed, and taking my sketching apparatus with me, 
started for the Goompa, whence I had been told a beau- 
tiful and near view of the snows could be obtained. 

F was too tired after his long walk yesterday to 

accompany me, but Fanchyng, Narboo, and the usual 
bodyguard of Chuprassees did so. From the eminence 
upon which our tents were situated I looked down upon 
the camp. Fires were being lighted in all directions, the 
smoke of which mingled with the mist that still hung in 
the hollows, whilst the hills stood out blue and cold 
against the glowing sky. Several monks had already 
descended and were engaged in earnest conversation 
with some of our people. Ascending the very steep path 
which led to the Goompa, we passed menials, in monastic 
attire, carrying up water in long 'chongas.' Many of these 
had goitre — one was deaf and dumb ; another frightfully 




•*, w- », 



THE MONKS OF PEMIONCHI. 



521 



deformed : each had, in short, some malady, to rend(^r 
him an object of charity to the benevolent monks. 

The summit gained, a lovely, though by no means 
extensive, panorama presented itself to our view. The 
highest peaks, however, were visible, appearing within a 
stone's throw, Nursyng, which greatly increases in im- 
portance from this spot, standing out proudly in her 
dazzling mantle of newly fallen snow. 

Beneath, to the left, lay the valley of the Kullait, to 
the right that of the Ratong. Ascending a few steps 
further, I found myself in a large open square, in the 
centre of which stands the Goompa, a lofty and very solid- 





7^ ,-//i{^ j. 



y\fAj 7 



y^D 



looking building. From the windows, which were few, 
high up, irregularly placed, and of a very singular shape; 
the shaven heads of the Lamas could occasionally be seen, 
looking down upon us, as they told their beads ; whilst 
others flitted to and fro in the courtyard on their respec- 



522 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



tive duties, taking little heed of me, except in furtive 
glances. 

At length, opening my easel, I attempted a sketch, 
and then their curiosity knew no bounds. They had obvi- 
ously never seen the like before, and, completely puzzled, 
they gathered round me, eager to ascertain the nature of 
my strange occupation. On looking over my shoulder, 
I also saw two of the Kajee's Sepoys, who, having 
approached silently, were watching my proceedings with 
grave interest. 

Presently two Lamas made their appearance, wearing 
high conical caps with long flaps covering the ears — the 

kind of thing worn by Ghebers, 
or Fire-worshippers of old — 
and taking up a position on little 
square blocks of masonry, situ- 
ated on either side the Goompa, 
they began blowing through 
immense conch shells as hard 
as they were able, and from 
the sweet strains that followed 
I instantly recognised the 
hurdy-gurdies of the previous 




As soon as the sound had ceased, all the monks began 
scuttling away, the Kajee's soldiers alone remaining be- 
hind. Then, proceeding from an upper chamber, I heard 
the low muttering of many voices as if in prayer. En- 



THE MONKS OF PEMIONCHL 



523 



([uiring of Narboo whether I could see them at their 
devotions, and being answered in the affirmative, I fol- 
lowed him up a narrow staircase outside the Goompa, 
hewn roughly out of a solid piece of wood, — the Sepoys, 
who had not once left me, and who seemed to be doeijingf 
my footsteps^ following also. 

Pushing open a massive door, whose lintels sloped 
outwards from the vertical, like the walls of the Goompa, 




Narboo ushered me into a large apartment, where a 
number of Lamas, seated on the ground, were reading 
from a pile of manuscripts each had before him on a little 
wooden desk. These manuscripts, Vv^hich were written, I 
observed, on one side only, consisted cf separate oblong 
squares of paper made from the Daphne papyrifera 
having all the appearance of parchment. When one had 
been read, it was quickly laid aside, and another taken 
up, without causing any break in their reading ; and thus 



passing leaf after leaf in rapid succession, they did not 
stir till the whole, about fifty, had been gone through. 

So completely absorbed were they in their devotions, 
or appeared so to be, that my entrance was scarcely ob- 
served, none of them looking up, or manifesting signs 
of the slightest consciousness of my intrusioa Opposite, 
but not reading, sat an obese old monk, whose duty it 
seemed rather to keep an eye over the rest than to per- 
form his own devotions, as he slid bead after bead through 
his fat fingers. 

During the process, a Lama entered from an adjoin- 
ing apartment dressed in a coarser garment — a menial 
of the establishment I imagine — carrying a large quaint 
vessel, resembling a dropsical teapot, with a goitery neck, 
like most of the peasantry. Hereupon each Lama, still 
continuing his prayers, took from his bosom a small 
wooden bowl, made from the knotted root of the maple- 
tree, into which some of the liquid was poured, I ascer- 
tained from Fanchyng that this liquid was a mixture 
called ' chee,' consisting of tea, cut from the tea-bricks 
made in Thibet, salt, butter, and beans, all of which are 
first boiled and then churned together, being nothing 
more nor less than the tea- soup to which I have before 
alluded. Having tasted it, however, I cannot recom- 
mend it as an addition to the European cuisine. 

After the monks had partaken of this singular com- 
pound, which they did still muttering their prayers, they 
literally licked the platter clean, looking again and again to 



rJIE MONKS OF PEMIONCUI. 525 

see if aught remained clinging to its sides; then, rolling 
the tongue completely round it, they once more returned 
it affectionately to their bosoms. 

The number of monks present was about eighty. 
Some few of the younger members of the confraternity 
looked painfully ascetic. The elders, however, having ap- 
parently got well over the period of asceticism, had settled 
down into a very comfortable and jolly frame of mind ; 
and, judging from their appearance, I should say they 
lived on something far more fattening than ' chee.' 

These monks, like their European brethren, are in a 
sense the confessors of the people, taking vows not only 
of sanctity but celibacy also, although the latter is not 
insisted on. They are also said to subject themselves 
occasionally to the most severe forms of abstinence, whilst 
some of their co-religionists have sealed their belief in 
metempsychosis by a voluntary death, the road to the 
highest perfection, according to their creed, being the 
sacrifice of the individual self. 

At the end of the room stood an altar upon which 
several small images were resting, and on either side of 
it were numerous shelves containing manuscripts all 
neatly arranged and tied up in separate packets or 
volumes. 

Like the higher powers corporeal, these spiritual 
potentates and holy friars seem to regard a lack of 
cleanliness as an essential part of their very being, 
and the aphorism ' cleanliness is next to godliness ' has 



526 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



evidently never been translated into the Thibetan lan- 
guage. They were still engaged in their devotions 
when I left them, and my departure seemed as little 
heeded as my arrival. 

On descending to the courtyard, followed by Narboo 

and the Sepoys, I found F , who, not having guessed 

I was in the Goompa, was wondering what in the world 




had become of me. Having heard that at eleven o'clock 
there was to be a service in the temple, at which we 
might be present if we wished, we remained loitering 
about in the vicinity of the Goompa ; and long before 
that time, the monks, having completed their preliminary 
devotions, came down, and gathering about our people, 
conversed pleasantly with them. Many of the peasantry, 
also, had by this time collected together to see us, and 



THE MONKS OF PEMIONCHI. 527 



as they recognised old acquaintances amongst the mem- 
bers of our camp, an exchange of salutations took place, 
the form being to push out the tongue, genuflect, and 
scratch the ear — a ceremony we frequently saw performed 
during our stay in this singular country. 



528 THE INDIAN A IPS. 



CHAPTER LI. 

SERVICE AT THE BUDDHIST TEMPLE. 

A GONG sounded the hour of worship, and on our express- 
ing a wish to look at the temple before the service began, 
a Lama stepped forward and at once led the way. It is 
entered by three large doorways, which are screened from 
the light of day by heavy curtains. On first entering the 
temple, the light was so exceedingly ' dim and religious ' 
that we could hardly grope our way along ; but as the 
eye gradually became accustomed to the darkness, objects 
began to take shape, and then we found ourselves in a 
spacious building very Egyptian in style, the pillars being 
square, and larger at the base than at the top ; the walls, 
as well as the architraves of the doors, sloping outwards 
from the vertical, the ceiling being consequently much 
smaller than the fioor of the structure, — a circumstance, 
by the way, that lends to the exterior of the building a 
wonderful appearance of solidity and strength. 

Two long rows of pillars separated the nave, which 
we ascertained was the portion of the temple in which 
worship is performed, from the outer aisles ; whilst upon 
the altar, which is in the west, rested a huge gilt figure 
of Budh, the founder of their religion, who flourished 



SERVICE AT THE BUDDHIST TEMPLE. 529 

about six hundred years before the Christian era, and 
two hundred years before India was invaded by Alex- 
ander. This individual is always represented sitting 
cross-legged, the popular belief amongst his followers 
being that his life was one perpetual act of meditation ; 
but if so, he must in the course of his musings have 
come across some very astounding theory, for he is here 
depicted with such a stare on his countenance that it is 
impossible not to believe that something must have 
highly astonished him. On either side of this central 
figure of Budh were others of less pretension, but main- 
taining also a sitting posture, and all alike engaged in 
contemplation. 

This monastery, founded four or five hundred years 
ago, was accidentally destroyed by fire in i860, when the 
greater part of its valuable library, consisting of four 
hundred volumes of manuscripts of the Buddhist Scrip- 
tures, written in Thibetan, was burnt also. The present 
edifice, the interior of which differs, I am told, in many 
respects from the former one, is the entire work of the 
Lamas themselves, who obtained the materials for its 
embellishment chiefly from Thibet, where the head of 
their Priesthood, the Grand Lama, resides. The decora- 
tion of the walls of the temple is still incomplete ; but 
the roof and the capitals of the pillars are richly painted 
in gold and various colours, arranged with marvellous 
correctness, no two colours being in juxtaposition that 
are not the complementary of each other. Thus, red 

3 V 



530 THE INDIAN ALPS, 

may almost invariably be seen contiguous to green, blue 
to orange, and citron to violet. It would of course be 
absurd to suppose that these semi-barbarians understand 
the science of chromatics, or the laws that govern harmony 
and contrast ; and one is forced to the conclusion therefore 
that they must have been guided solely by that which 
pleased the eye. At any rate the effect was perfect, and 
nothing throughout the building struck discordant colour- 
notes. 

Their devices, however, are the wildest conceptions 
possible : winged dragons, tongues of fire, and a species 
of nondescript animal with a human face, Avhich one 
could easily fancy, for want of a better simile, must be 
intended to represent deified Lamas without any bodies 
— Buddhist cherubim possibly. Besides these there are 
the Lotus, and a wheel with three rays, called a ' chuck- 
ree,' a singular hieroglyph typical of the Buddhist Trinity, 
which all taken together might be the twelve signs of the 
Zodiac gone mad. To attempt to analyse them would 
have driven one to the borders of insanity, the whole 
looking like nothing so much as a photograph — were 
such possible — of the cerebrum of some highly delirious 
person suffering from ' fireworks on the brain.' 

The truth is that we are dealing here with art which 
at best must be called semi-barbarous. There are shrines 
of Budh where the image of the wise man (for such is 
the meaning of the word) is said to impress even the 
European visitor with the sense of that impassive and 



SERVICE AT THE BUDDHIST TEMPLE. 531 

eternal calm to which the saint at length attained in his 
supreme beatitude. Possibly the image of Budh at 
Pemionchi may convey this feeling to the devout monks 
who daily worship before it ; but on us it left only the 
impression of a vacant stare. And is it altogether un- 
reasonable to assume that we here meet with the exter- 
nals of Buddhism more as they originally were, than in 
countries where they may have become gradually modified 
by the surroundings of rapidly increasing civilisation ? 

All this time not only were the Sepoys following us, 
but Budh's eyes also, giving one the impression of a per- 
son who could not move his head by reason of a stiff neck, 
but who was nevertheless determined not to lose sight of 
us for a single instant; and it was quite impossible not to 
feel, as his big eyes were fixed upon us with the peculiar 
expression I have described, that he was indulging in 
by no means flattering astonishment at our appearance. 

Whilst taking all this in at a glance, the monks noise- 
lessly entered one by one, each as he did so facing the 
image of Budh, and prostrating himself before it till his 
forehead touched the earth, a genuflection thrice re- 
peated with an appearance of the deepest reverence and 
devotion ; after which they took their seats on the low 
cushions which extended the whole way up the nave, on 
either side within the pillars. 

Then entered the High Priests, or chief Lamas, both 
very fat, their dress much more severe in shape, and 
limited in quantity, one arm and shoulder being left bare. 



But this deficiency in the matter of clothing was fully 
compensated for, I am sorry to say, by the extra garment 
of the common element they wore, as became their 
more advanced stage of sanctity. In this respect I 
should say they had reached the topmost rung of the 
ladder, and were quite ready to be deified, like the figures 
on the altar. Their heads were adorned with high stiff 
cloth caps, probably scarlet once, but now a deep rich 
mellow brown, in shape a caricature of a bishop's mitre. 

On each side of the altar stood a rudely carved chair, 
hewn, as was everything else, out of a solid block of 
wood, which one instinctively felt must have belonged 
to the founder of their religion, if not to some even more 
ancient divine. These chairs were appropriated to the 
use of the chief Lamas, and as soon as they had taken 
their seats the service began. 

Strange as were the surroundings of these Pagans, 
and grim as were their symbols, how can I find language 
to express the majesty and grandeur of their worship, 
which impressed me more deeply than anything I have 
ever seen or heard, and in which I realised faintly a sort 
of abstract idea of what the worship of the All-Supreme 
by poor feeble human lips should be ? It filled me with 
wonder and admiration ; and the chanting of their Ser- 
vice is a thing never to be forgotten while memory lasts. 
The whole, which was a kind of Litany, was sung in 
the very deepest monotone, and preserved with mar- 
vellous precision; the voices musical, and harmonising 



SERVICE AT THE BUDDHIST TEMPLE. 533 

perfectly. Every now and then they ceased chanting for 
an instant, after which the chief Lamas beginning some 
fresh theme in a higher key which sounded Hke a wild 
burst of rhapsody, they all took up the strain, and sank 
once more to the same deep note. Although this solemn 
Litany was in a language with which we were wholly 
unfamiliar, it scarcely seemed to be in an unknown 
tongue, for there was a descriptiveness in the rendering of 
the whole which in a great measure enabled us to follow 
its meaning. Now, their voices blending in deep and 
solemn utterance, they seemed to be mourning their sins 
and shortcomings in profoundest humiliation and self- 
abasement ; now, bursting forth in joyous cadence, they 
seem at last — having withstood the temptations to which 
they had been exposed in successive stages of existence — 
to see before them the prospect of Nirvana, and they 
reach some other and higher development in which all 
is adoring rapture, as they imagine themselves absorbed 
into the very essence of the Deity. There was also 
an earnestness and simplicity about their worship that 
left no room for doubt as to its sincerity. Amongst the 
number, I observed one very old monk who was suffer- 
ing from lachrymal fistula, his dear old eyes shedding 
countless involuntary tears, sufficient to wash away the 
sins of all his brethren, as well as his own too, if they 
could only have been vicarious. 

In the midst of the Service, incongruous as it may 
seem, two men silently entered with ' chee.' Out came 



534 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



again the little bowls, the contents of which they did 
not drink. As they held these, still reciting, the chant 
grew softer and softer, till the faintest sound was scarcely 
audible, and we could hardly tell when the last word 
died away — a vocal feat that could only have been 
acquired by long and careful practice. As one listened 
to them, and gazed at their surroundings, one felt some- 
how as though time itself were either altogether annihi- 
lated, or had passed them by with folded wing ; for there 
appears to be no link whatever to connect these singular 
people even with m.ediseval times, and we were probably 
witnessing a scene similar to that upon which Alexander 
himself may have gazed. In fact, as far as their appear- 
ance went, they might have pulled up short somewhere 

about the reign of Cheops, 
if not in the depths of a still 
more remote antiquity, and 
have never moved since. 

At length all drank the 
contents of their bowls in 
silence, which seemed part 
of the ceremony. Then an- 
other monk bringing water, 
which had been blessed, in a 
highly chased silver flagon, 
poured some over the hands 
of each ; and the Service coming thus to an end, they all 
withdrew as silently as they had entered, with the excep- 




SERVICE AT THE BUDDHIST TEMPLE. 535 



tion of the two chief Lamas. These, retaining their seats 
on each side of the altar, began making tender enquiries 
after our health, one of them expressing astonishment 
that a lady could travel by such paths, and in such in- 
clement regions. 

It seemed odd to be questioned, and as it were gos- 
siped with, in a temple devoted to the worship of the 
All-Supreme ; but our conversation was happily cut 

short by C 's entrance, who had abstained from 

being present at their Service on religious grounds, 
but who wished to see the temple itself. We ask per- 
mission therefore to make a more careful Inspection of 
the altar ; a permission readily granted, with the proviso, 
however, that we did not stand opposite to It. 

Besides the large centre figure of Budh were others, 
representing Lamas who, having lived in this or some 
previous existence, had obtained deification. 

Below these figures — which were on a super altar — 
numerous quaint vessels were standing, containing oil, 
water, and rice. A light was also burning, which Is 
never suffered to eo out, whilst the smoke of Incense 
poured through the perforated cover of an urn, richly 
chased with silver dragons, which of all others would 
seem to be their favourite device. Amongst other things, 
we observed a brilliantly painted cock, not at all unlike 
the one that comes out and crows when the clock of 
Strasburg Cathedral strikes twelve. We tried very hard, 
through Narboo, our medium of communication, to make 



536 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

them explain what this symbolised, but could ascertain 
nothing definitely, but there can be little doubt that we 
have here the bird of morning which with his last words 
Socrates bade his friend sacrifice to the Great Healer 
who summons the dead from their graves. It may with- 
out much fear be said that the phonomena of dawn teach 
everywhere the same consoling lesson. 

Whatever may be the belief of the Buddhists of 
Ceylon, China, and India generally — for Buddhism is 
so varied that it can scarcely be called one creed, — those 
of the Himalayan districts do certainly believe in the 
existence of a Universal Spirit, ever present, into which 
they hope one day to be absorbed. Buddha himself, the 
'wise' or 'enlightened one,' being a human soul thus 
absorbed, is not, by these Buddhists at any rate, regarded 
as a separate Deity, or worshipped as such, but only as 
a part of the Great Whole. 

So far as I can see, the religion of the Buddhist is a 
kind of Pantheism ; and there is a great similarity be- 
tween Buddhism and Brahminism : the Hindoo's idea 
of future blessedness being also that of absorption into 
the Godhead, and a belief in ' One existing in all things, 
and all things existing in One : God in the universe, and 
the universe in God.' 

But to return to the ' Nirvana ' of the Buddhists — 
which is simply the losing of their individuality, as they 
become incorporated into the Divine Essence. Did they 
believe in annihilation, as the term is generally understood 



by Englishmen, it would be impossible not to look with 
wonder and astonishment on their lives — lives of prayer, 
devotion, and self-sacrifice, and to some even of severest 
asceticism, all endured to obtain that merely which we 
attribute, rightly or wrongly, to * the brutes that perish.' 
On the contrary, they appear to look forward to the 
distant Nirvana with the most ardent longings of which 
the human soul is capable. It is a consummation, how- 
ever, that can only be arrived at after many successive 
terrestrial existences, and then only by the avoidance of 
every vice, and the practice of every virtue, and it is so 
far off, and so difficult to attain, that it must at best be 
very cold comfort even to the ' faithful.' 

Their code of morality is the highest conceivable, and 
their system perfect ; but it is one solely of merit, and 
there is something ineffably sad in the almost utter hope- 
lessness of their creed ; for how few can expect to attain 
to the necessary degree of holiness. Gazing at these 
poor devoted creatures, I felt that their self-sacrifice and 
abnegation were worthy of a surer hope, and in their 
yearnings for something above and beyond themselves to 
rest in, which is innate in human nature wherever it is 
found, I realised more than ever that of every belief 
prevalent amongst men there is none so suited to the 
wants of poor humanity as that of the Christian. 

But one cannot help feeling an interest, and some- 
thing akin to reverence, too, for a system of religion which 
numbers amongst its votaries more than half the world. 



538 THE INDIAN AIPS. 



It is impossible for any one who has hved in the midst of 
these lordly mountains, and grand pathetic solitudes, and 
opened his heart to the deep lessons they teach, not to 
look far beyond the bands of sect in his relations with the 
Eternal : and I for one left the temple greatly impressed 
with the monks and their grand and ancient worship. The 
dimly lighted shrine, the dress of the people themselves, 
and their wonderfully solemn chant, were very striking ; 
and, in spite of much that seemed barbarous in the 
externals of their religion, I saw no worship of idols, 
but merely reverence for the Founder of their creed 
through the image that represented him, and solemn 
prayer to the One Great Spirit ; and in heart I worshipped 
with them. 

It is passing strange how we 'hate each other for 
the love of God.' Many an earnest and well-meaning 
Christian Iconoclast would doubtless have witnessed their 
service with disgust and pious horror, for a benevolent 
and charitable dislike to every form of religion differing 
from our own is a thing too often imbibed in childhood. 
That spirit of loving charity, which once prompted the 
old Scotch minister, at the close of an extempore prayer, 
to say, ' And now, Lord, of thine infinite mercy, blast 
with eternal wrath that arch-hypocrite, the Pope,' is I 
fear still common even in this enlightened ag^e ; while far 
too rare is that of the other old Scotchman, who, unable 
to believe anyone beyond the reach of mercy, having 
supplicated heaven for every species of sinner under 



THE CHRISTIANS OF CHOTA NAG PORE. 539 



the svin. exclaimed with exquisite pathos, ' And now, my 
triends, let us pray for the puir dell !' 

To despise the religion of others, does not enhance the 
truth or beauty of our own. Far better is it to cull the 
good in all, recognising in each the struggle of man after 
Light, his faith in the unseen, and yearnings after a better, 
holier life. If we only understood them better, we should 
doubtless see less in them to condemn, and more that is 
worthy of our imitation. 

Only once have I witnessed so impressive a service, 
and that not in England, or abroad in vast cathedrals, 
but amongst those lowly converts to Christianity, the 
Santals of Chota Nagpore, a province in Bengal, where 
there are already about seven thousand who have enrolled 
themselves under the banner of the cross, and where 
upwards of seven hundred sought and received baptism 
only last year according to the rites of the Anglican 
Church. In their church I saw no wandering eye. The 
things of earth shut out, they seemed alone with Him 
they came to worship, their very soul appearing to go 
forth in gratitude and adoring love, and their bodies 
vibrating with the fervour of their prayers, as, with 
clasped hands and upturned faces, by faith they saw 
Him who is 'invisible,' 

To ourselves, whose ears have become familiarised to 
them, the Scriptures have naturally lost much of their 
graphic power, and it is not eas)- to realise the intense 
fervour of these new-born Christians. But there is no 



question that the Gospel to them was indeed one of ' good 
tidings of great joy ; ' and when their voices, witli wonder- 
ful harmony, burst forth in a gentle hymn of praise, it 
was one of the most affecting and touching things I ever 
heard. 

Leaving their church, in which eleven hundred had 
gathered, the women, clothed in their spotlessly white 
' sarees,' which covered their heads as with a veil, 
pressed round me, each saying ' Yesu sahary!' (Jesus be 
your helper) ; and I felt for an instant that I had been 
carried back to Apostolic times, and envying their en- 
thusiasm, wished that I too had only recently been told 
the ' old, old story.' 



THE GOOMPA LIBRARY. 541 



CHAPTER LII. 



C S LITTLE DURBAR. 



' Whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, 
This longing after Immortality ? 
Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror 
Of falling into Nought ?' 



The greater number of the monks were standing about 
the courtyard when we quitted the temple, some telHng 
off more prayers on their rosaries, some gossiping with 
the men of our camp, whilst others looked down upon us 
from the windows of the Goompa ; till at length one, 
coming up to us, asked if we would like to see the manu- 
scripts and musical instruments. 

The library, or rather that portion of it which still 
remains, consists of several shelves filled with piles of 
books, tied up in separate packets or volumes, more than 
two-thirds of their original number having been destroyed 
by the fire in i860. A very beautiful and valuable manu- 
script history of Sikkim, compiled by the Lamas, and 
written in black and gold, on oblong squares of parch- 
ment, was also ruthlessly demolished during the Nepaul 
war, when the Goorkhas — the principal tribe of that 



country — Hindoos in religion, actually used it for roofing 
in their huts. Some few of these Buddhist monasteries 
possess manuscripts written upwards of two thousand 
years ago, being translations from the Sanscrit into the 
Thibetan language ; some of which, containing deep 
philosophy, resemble the Proverbs of Solomon. Not long 

ago, in a charming little 

book, entitled ' The Child- 
hood of the World,' I read 
a translation of some of 
these proverbs, three of 
which I subjoin : — 

' Conquer anger by 
mildness, evil by good, 
falsehood by truth.' 

' Be not desirous of 
discovering the faults of others, but zealously guard 
against your own.' ' 

'He is a more noble warrior who subdues himself, 
than he who in battle conquers thousands.' 

By this time the musical (?) instruments — instruments 

of torhire -as F calls them — were brought out for 

exhibition ; and once more leaving the interior of the 
Goompa, we saw two monks, each holding a bronze 
telescopic trumpet, the mouth of which rested on the 
ground, and which, when pulled out to its fullest extent, 
measured no less than sixteen feet ! 

No sooner had they blown through them than the 




BONR TRUMI'ETS. 



543 



very earth shook beneath our feet, and we entreated them 
to desist, for the noise they created was quite over- 
powering. After this, the conch shells were produced, 
which take such a prominent part in the wild music of 
these monasteries, and which> richly mounted in silver, 
are wonderful specimens of the anaglyptic art. Next 
came bone trumpets, interesting relics of deceased Lamas, 
their once brethren in the flesh, for, according to their 
creed, no sound Is half so sweet as that which proceeds 
from the bone of a defunct 
member of their fraternity. 
Through several of these 
trumpets they blew lustily, 
and seemed not a little 
amused at their own per- 
formance. 

Other lively things in the shape of drums, formed of 
two skulls placed back to back, in which small stones 
had been inserted, the holes in the faces being covered 
with parchment. This last sweet thing in their musical 
rdpei'toire produced when shaken a sound like that of 
the ' bones ' in the hands of an Ethiopian serenader. 
The Lamas also exhibited a kind of trident, emblematic 
of their Trinity — Budh, Dhurma, and Sunga. 

These friendly monks, desirous of making us ac- 
quainted with the whole of their dwelling, now conducted 
us up a very steep and dangerous staircase, to the upper 
storey of the monastery, and showed us Into a large kitchen. 




544 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

The fire was burnino- on a stone hearth in the centre of 
the room, the smoke of which found its way through a 
hole in the roof, chimneys being unknown in Sikkim. 
Round the fire a number of enormous iron and earthen 
pots were boih'ng, containing various comestibles, chiefly 
rice, chee, and murwa ; whilst a monk, of an inferior order 
apparently, stood watching the process, stirring each in 
succession with a long wooden ladle. 

Descending to the courtyard, small china cups were 
handed round to us, containing a liquid which looked like 
milk and water. It was hard lines, to say the least of it, 
to have to taste anything made by these hospitable but 
intolerably dirty Philistines, but noblesse oblige, and after 
doing violence to our feelings and tasting it, we found that 
it consisted of some kind of spirit excessively like bad 
maraschino. 

Looking down from this spot, we could just see the 
old Court, or Durbar, of the Rajah, now uninhabited and 
fallen into ruin. On the spur of the opposite mountain 
there is also another dilapidated edifice, that of a Goompa, 
for women, deserted many a year ago, however, except 
by one old dowager priestess, who still lives there. Its 
contents — a large and valuable library of the Buddhist 
Scriptures, the images, and all the religious etceteras — 
were carried away by the nuns when, for some reason or 
other, they fled into Thibet. 

The full number of Lamas at this monastery is, I 
believe, one hundred and eioht, all of whom, supported 



'I'HK PRAYING CYLINDER. 545 

out of the g-cncral resources of the countr)', are sup- 
posed to devote themselves to perpetual contemplation, 
except when absent on pilgrimages, or on visitations to 
other monasteries, of which there are several in this 
locality — this, however, being the principal one, where 
noviciates are prepared for the priesthood. These 
Goompas are invariably perched upon eminences, gene- 
rally on the extreme summit of the mountain, where the 
surroundings seem to favour contemplation. But there 
was doubtless a much deeper significance originally in 
their erection on mountains than mere seclusion and con- 
templation, the people believing they were thus brought 
into closer and more direct communication with the 
Deity ; the high places of the earth being supposed to be 
those where He delivered his oracles to man. In olden 
time there is little doubt also but that sacrifices, if not 
of ' bullocks and rams,' yet of some other kind, were 
offered upon these ancient altars with which we are here 
surrounded. 

Before descending to our camp, we were taken to 
see the praying cylinder, in a room set apart to itself, 
a little below the monastery. It is gaudily painted, in 
strips of blue, red. green, and orange, and stands from 
eight to ten feet high, measuring about twenty in cir- 
cumference. Within this cylinder is a scroll, on which 
the words ' Om — Mani — Padmi — Om ' are inscribed, 
and which is made to revolve by a superannuated Lama, 
whose peculiar vocation it seemed to be to conduct the 

4 A 



546 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

process. So very old and shrivelled was he, that, seated 
in a corner, he looked more like the skeleton of a monk 
permanently established there. He holds a rope which, 
pulled slightly, causes the scroll to unfold ; and, as it does 
so, he inaudibly mutters the mystic words, and a bell 
rings. 

Later in the day, C held an imposing Durbar; 

and we saw our fat Kajee coming panting and wheezing 
up the hill, followed by a number of Sepoys, the two I 
have spoken of never having left our sides to-day, till 
we were beginning to get tired of their company ; for it was 
evident they were keeping an eye upon our movements. 
The chief Lama, too, presented himself almost at the same 
moment as the Kajee, heading a procession of monks, 
carrying rice, millet, oranges, butter, black salt, and a 

variety of other things, which they laid at C- 's feet. 

Behind the Lama walked a very important personage, 
viz. the Dewan, or Prime Minister of the Rajah; a wily 
fellow, in whose hands, it is said, the Rajah is a mere 
puppet, and who overrides the Kajees, Soubahs, and 
Chiefs of the whole territory, levying taxes on the poor 
' grievous to be borne ; ' the approved method of collect- 
ing revenue in this enlightened country often consisting 
in bringing the defaulters to reason by a bodily suspen- 
sion head downwards to the strong branch of a tree ; at 
other times by tying them to its trunk, with their arms 
pinioned and mouths gagged. 

The dress of this Dewan is perfectly Chinese in style. 



C \S LI'llLE DURBAR. 547 

and composed of a magnificent yellow satin robe, heavily 
embroidered with green and blue dragons. This, by the 
way, he had no right to wear, yclUno being the symbol of 
royalty in this country ; but I fancy he reigns supreme in 
Sikkim. 

During the ceremony the Lama and Dewan were ac- 
commodated with chairs, in which the latter looked 
thoroughly uncomfortable ; whilst the Kajee resumed his 
favourite attitude on the oTOund, where he sat cross- 

legged. But Tendook, F , and I, as small guns, 

and shining only by a reflex glory, stood behind C , 

listening to the proceedings with grave interest, Narboo 
being interpreter as usual. 

The old Lama, who always seemed to sit w^th folded 
hands, and who showed far less well away from his 
monastic surroundings, was yet a perfect type of his 
order, and complained bitterly of their poverty, since the 
British Government annexed the low-lying lands in the 
Rajah's territory, from which he principally derived his 
revenue, the Rajah having been obliged in consequence 
to withdraw his subsidy of 3,000 rupees, which he had 
annually devoted to the monks. Their appearance, how- 
ever, belied his words, for a more jovial set of recluses it 
is hardly possible to imagine. 

Towards evening a number of women came to do 
* pooja' to the Mem Sahib, headed by the old priestess, 
all anxious to see what sort of an animal a European lady 
could be like. She was dressed in serge, after the manner 



548 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



of the monks, her neck and chest exposed, over which 
hung a rosary. The other women who accompanied her, 
and who, T imagine, were peasants from the neighbouring 
villages, were strikingly handsome, and all extremely fair. 
I was unable to speak to them in the language of the lip, 
but admired their costume, which was very picturesque ; 
and appealing thus to the vanity of these daughters of 
Eve, who evidently had instincts in common with those 

of other and more civilised 
countries, we became quite 
friend]}^ by that ' touch of 
nature that makes the 
whole world kin.' Gather- 
ing closely round me, the 
dowager Lama proceeded 
to make a very minute 
examination of my dress, 
which afforded them great 
amusement They took 
off my hat, dived into my 
pocket, and finally unbuttoned my cloak, to ascertain 
what other mysteries remained yet unexplored. Several 
children were amongst the number : little bright-eyed 
creatures, all wonderfully clean, as were their mothers 
also, to whom I gave small silver coins, which I have no 
doubt they will first have blessed by the Lamas, to pre- 
vent their doing them harm, and then wear round their 
necks as ornaments; these primitive people having no 




The dowcvcjer 



^af(^^ 



THE DOWAGER /..L\f.l. 549 



use for money, all their commercial transactions being 
carried on by barter. 

The old woman, on seeing F and Tendook ap- 
proach, remarked to the former that I looked very good, 
and she hoped that he did not beat me much ; upon which 

F replied, that although it was the custom in India 

for men to beat their wives, in England it was all the other 
way ! This statement, translated into their language 
by Tendook, was received by my feminine audience with 
a chorus of very feeling applause ; and I think they would 
not unwillingly have migrated with their lords to that 
delightful country, to have an opportunity of a little 
revenge. 

Finding that the ' pooja ' was likely to continue till put 
an end to by myself, I pleaded fatigue, and took refuge 

within my tent ; whilst F went off to the forest with 

his gun, having seen some remarkably pretty birds with 
black and yellow plumage, and little tufts on their heads 
like chignons. The humane Lamas, however, on hearing 
the report of his fowling-piece, soon followed, entreating 
him to desist, saying they regarded it as a cruel sport, and 
that they never allowed an arrow to be shot in the forest 
by any of their own people. 

The fear of man never having been handed down 
to them by their ancestors, the birds are wonderfully 
tame here, approaching us as though we were things 
inanimate, and hopping round and about us quite 
familiarly. They are, however, not so impudent in their 



55° THE INDIAN ALPS. 

familiarity as the birds that infest the Cities of the Plains, 
where I have watched them come, day after day, to pluck 
the wool out of our Mirzapore carpets, to make linings 
for their nests, and where the crows, congregating by 
scores, perch like sparrows on the house-top, waiting to 
descend the very moment there is a chance of entering it 
unawares, and carrying off some booty. These crows 
are a cunning folk, experience teaching me to believe 
them capable of almost anything. In India it is very amu- 
sing to watch them at all times, and see how they watch 
you, scanning you with the keen, searching, and discri- 
minating eye of a physiognomist, acquainting themselves 
with all your habits, and almost understanding what you 
say. How often have I watched their movements at 
mid-day repasts, through the open doorway, and seen 
them come hopping across the verandah ! They never 
look you straight in the face, but hop sideways, with their 
heads awry, apparently intently regarding the indications 
of the weather ; but, artful, dodgy, wise birds, they are in 
truth only w^aiting the first moment of your leaving the 
table to fly in and pounce upon the first savoury object 
they see, and be off with it in a twinkling. How well I 
remember being visited each morning at breakfast for 
many weeks by a lame crow, which came limping along 
sideways in the most pitiful and wobegone manner. We 
were not, as a rule, prone to encourage the visits of this 
crafty species of the feathered tribe ; but in this one, as 
he came limping along, there was something so droll 



THE LAME CROW. 551 

that our interest and compassion were excited, and we 
regularly consoled him with a bone, or some other suc- 
culent morsel. After a while, however, he grew careless, 
making sure of the continuance of our bounty, and it 
was at length discovered that although he came limping, 
the very instant he had had his breakfast, he hopped off 
on both legs as nimbly as possible. 

At another period of my residence in the plains, I 
remember being considerably puzzled by the constant 
departure of my soap, a tablet of that indispensable article 
disappearing from my room daily. I was also bewildered 
no less at the unaccountable splashings of water frequently 
seen about the walls ; but one day, on hearing a great 
clatter, flapping, and unusual commotion, I noiselessly 
slipped in, and to my astonishment saw four crows, one 
deliberately taking his bath in the basin, whilst two others, 
sitting on the washing stand close by, were waiting their 
turn for a plunge ; a fourth, with a tablet of soap in his 
beak, being perched on the top of my wardrobe, where I 
subsequently found my ayah's duster, a long-lost thimble, 
a watch-key, five pieces of soap, two chicken bones, 
and an egg-shell, all snugly placed there ' to be left till 
called for.' 

F , now returning from his unsuccessful stroll in 

quest of sport, insisted on one more climb to the Goompa. 
On our way we met two monks ' all shaven and shorn,' 
leading a fat bullock, ornamented with scarlet tassels, little 
bells, and a wreath of leaves round its neck, which we 



552 



THE INDIAN A I PS. 



imagined they must be fading to sacrifice. In Narboo's 
absence we had no means of enquiring, but hearing 
from Tendook later in the evening that a great feast was 
to come off at the Goompa the following day, to which he 
and several of our camp were bidden, we felt no doubt 
that their intentions regarding the' poor beast were simply 




to slay and eat. Near the Goompa several other monks, 
seated on a mendong, were enjoying their evening's pota- 
tion of hot ' murwa,' in which they kindly invited us to 
participate ; one of them, taking the tube out of his own 
mouth, offering it to me. 

Passing the room in which was the praying cylinder, 
we heard the little bell still tinkling, and peeping in saw 
the old monk sitting in precisely the same attitude in which 



^ 





-^rr^: 




ONE MORE CLIMB TO THE GOOMPA. 553 

we had seen him in the morning. A few more steps and 
we again stood in the yard surrounding the Goompa. All 
was silent here, and everything looked weird in the fast 
p^atherino- twiliofht. Above us frowned the dark and 
massive walls of the monastery, presenting an appearance 
of solidity and strength almost akin to the mountains 
with which they were environed. Beyond towered the 
snows in the darkling sky, cold and passionless, and im- 
mutable. At their feet lay the valleys bathed in pro- 
foundest gloom. Now and again the subdued roar of a 
torrent reached us from some far-distant gorge, but before 
the ear had fairly caught the sound the breeze that bore 
it on its wings had passed over us, and it was gone. 
Occasionally a monk glided by, muttering to himself, and 
there was something grand and majestic in the whole 
scene, and ineffably solemn. From this spot we seem to 
look not upwards, but across to the snows, and although 
between them and us there is a great gulf formed by the 
valley, yet they seem almost near enough to touch. 
Immediately opposite rise the gentle acclivities of Nur- 
syng, step above step ; and in the formation of this 
mountain, to my own mind, there is something mysterious 
and awful — too regular seemingly to have been hewn by 
Nature's hand, yet impossible to have been fashioned by 
any human or mechanical agency whatever. 



4 B 



554 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER LIIL 

THE OLD lama's BLESSING. 

This monastery is a school for the native ' nobiHty 
and gentry' of the province, and some of the pupils are 
very young, but all wear the same monastic garb. The 
little son of Tchebu Lama is amongst them ; a meek-eyed 
pensive boy, as pretty and about as dirty a little urchin 
as one could possibly see, who persisted nevertheless on 
taking my hand, and leading me about in quite the 
English fashion. 

On returning to our camp, we met Pugla-wallah going 
up to the Goompa to receive the Lama's blessing; a 
thing he did regularly at morn and eve, and probably at 
other times as well. On three several occasions had 
we seen him present himself for the purpose; probably 
acting on the principle of the old woman who made a 
point of being confirmed on every available opportunity, 
because, as she said, it was 'good for the rheumatiz.' 
The chief Lama, however, whose province it was to ad- 
minister the blessing, evidently suffered, like a patriarch 
of old, from dimness of vision ; he did not appear to 
recognise him on either occasion, but gave it repeatedly 



THE LAMAS BLESSING. 555 

in the customary form, and in a manner very apostolic, 
the recipient kncehng whilst the old Lama, laying both 
hands upon his head, repeated a short formula, which 
we deeply regretted we could not understand. 

As the day wore on, our camp became exceedingly 
boisterous, the greater number being occupied in a carousal 
over their favourite beverage whilst smoking ' tsceang,' a 
tobacco from Thibet generously given them by the 
monks. Others, more soberly inclined, played at a game 
very much like the Italian one called ' mora,' and a kind 
of chess, as well as quoits, which, however, is not more 
remarkable than our playing backgammon, also battledore 
and shuttlecock, which are both said to be Chinese and 
Tartarian games. 

I was greatly amused by watching them from the little 
eminence which I had climbed for the purpose. Many 
amongst them were in gay attire, wearing bracelets, and 
ponderous earrings, and brilliant fabrics, which they had 
produced from their bundles, out of compliment to the 
monks and the people of the country who had come to 
welcome them. Fanchyng, too, was more than ordinarily 
decked out with pomps and vanities. 

'"When I reach home, Mem sahib,' she exclaimed, 
climbing the knoll where she had descried me, and throw- 
ing herself down by my side, ' I will weave you such a 
pretty dress, striped with red, and green, and orange, 
much prettier than this one,' looking down at the one she 
wore. She formed such a contrast to myself in my 



sombre garb, that I was forcibly reminded of a question 
Lattoo once put to me. 

* Mem sahib,' she said one day when we were down 
at the Teesta, ' why do you always wear those sad 
colours ? I don't like them,' speaking in the brusque, 
petulant way she sometimes did. 

' I am in mourning, Lattoo,' I replied. ' It is the 
custom of English ladies to wear black when they lose a 
friend.' 

' Black is the colour of night, Mem sahib, and yet you 
believe that when you die you reach Nirvana— meaning 
Heaven — at once. Then why are you not glad when your 
logiie die, and wear the colours we see in the birds, and 
flowers, and falling water when the sun shines ? God 
doesn't make your colours. Ah, well ! ' she continued, as 
if thinking aloud, ' Christans are strange people.' 

I felt the force of her words, and my thoughts re 
curred to the sons and daughters of Republican Spain, 
who demonstrate theiT- faith in the Christianity they pro- 
fess by having cheerful music at their funerals, and in 
decking themselves with flowers. 

The Limboos and Lepchas also wear flowers in 
their hair for two or three months after the death of a 
relative, which is their only emblem of mourning ; and 
when one comes to think of it, the symbol is very beau- 
tiful and poetical, for what is so transient as a flower ? 

The sun now declining, the inharmonious music of the 
Goompa again called the Lamas to their orisons, and, 



obedient to the summons, they were soon scrambHng 
up the hill-side on their way to the temple. After their 
departure, our people, deprived of all restraint, grew 
more noisy than before, and those who were not already 
lying on their backs immersed in slumber, their heavy 
stertorous breathing indicating that it was anything 
but the balmy sleep of nature, were in a very excited 
state, whilst some were very quarrelsome, the foremost of 
whom was Hatti. I could descry his Herculean form in the 
shadowy twilight, zig-zagging amidst the camp fires, 
threatening each moment to lose his equilibrium and 
subside on the top of one of the burning piles, like a 
voluntary human sacrifice. He seemed moreover to 
possess some great grievance, for he was lamenting loudly, 
amongst the jeers of his companions. At length I saw 
him approaching, with great mental determination appa- 
rently, but physically hors de combat, and I retired pre- 
cipitately within my tent, like a snail into its shell at 
the approach of the enemy ; but I soon heard his foot- 
steps on the grass outside, and his very shaky voice 
addressing me. 

'Mem sahib! Mem sahib ! Mad I Bab/' (Father, Mo- 
ther), that being the touching mode of appeal invariably 
made use of by all Orientals, when they want to work 
upon your feelings, and obtain a favour. 

At first I turned a deaf ear to these endearing appella- 
tions, but importunity prevailing, I at last peeped out 
of my tent. But he had arrived at that stage when to 



558 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

render himself intelligible was an impossibility, and the 
redress he had come thus far to seek was consequently 
not to be obtained. Bidding him jao (begone), in the 
most commanding tone I could assume, I shouted for 
Catoo, who answered the summons* in an exceedingly 
amiable frame of mind, but looking as though he too 
had been indulging in similar orgies. He succeeded, 
however, in leading Hatti away; and I watched them 
both reel down the knoll to their own camp, at the im- 
minent risk of their necks, flattering myself that I had 
seen the last of Hatti. But lo, I soon heard his voice 
appealing to me in more beseeching accents than before ; 
this time crying like a child, and holding a small parch- 
ment document, which bore the government seal. What 
it all meant I had not the ghost of an idea. Led away 
again by Catoo, he returned repeatedly to the charge, 

until F , who had strolled away some distance from 

the camp, happily came to the rescue. Hatti was now 
carried off ignominiously in the arms of three stalwart 
Bhootias, and we had every reason to believe he then 
collapsed for the night, for we heard no more of him. 

Our Kitmutgar next makes his appearance, also 
bathed in tears — it is wonderful what a depressing effect 
murwa seems to have upon their spirits. He has, he 
informs us, broken one of the burra sahib's 'tumblets,' 
and is afraid there will be a great 'bobbery! 'Tumblet' 
is the accepted mode of pronunciation for tumbler with 
all the natives of Bengal, with whom a tray is ' trail,' slip- 



pers are ' silpits,' a box is a 'bockas,' and champagne is 
' simpkin,' as everybody knows. But then, on the other 
hand, we Anglo-Indians take our revenge by speaking 
execrable Hindustani, particularly my own sex, with many 
of whom the adoption of Indian words is beginning to 
amount to a species of slang, a custom unhappily growing 
more and more common. Thus yoa will probably hear 
a lady, with questionable taste, remark that she has been 
dikked, dik being the generic term for vexation or 
worry ; or that she has at last succeeded in ptikeroiumg a 
good naukar for her butckas, meaning that she has found 
a good nurse for her children ; or that her husband has 
been made pucka, that is to say, settled in his appoint- 
ment ; whilst new arrivals are invariably called ' griffs \ 
dinner parties are ' biLrra k/ianas ',' an order is always 
a 'hookam\ and ' ttmmsha is used to express excite- 
ment of all kinds, pleasurable or otherwise ; and so on ad 
nffnituin. 

On reading my home letters again more carefully, 
whilst sitting alone in my tent this evening, I found in 
one a postscript, which in my hurry I had entirely over- 
looked. It was from the friend who had enclosed Lattoo's 
little effusion, and who, having gone down to the hut with 
me more than once, knew her well. The postscript stated 
that since the letter had been written, Lattoo had grown 
much worse, and was suffering from a dangerous malady 
not infrequent to the valleys of Darjeeling, and was now 
wholly confined to her bed. A Lama had been there 



twice with dorje and cymbals; but the poor Httle half- 
enlightened soul had derived no spiritual comfort from 
his visitations, neither did they avail her aught bodily. 

Before retiring for the night, on F 's assuring me 

he could send it easily by a baggage coolie early in the 
morning, I wrote Lattoo another short letter. I had not 
much to say, but I told her how I wished I could be with 
her, and that we were now no more to linger on our way, 
but should be steadily marching homewards on the 
morrow. I told her too how constantly I bore her in 
my thoughts, and how at those moments when, at night 
and morn, I recalled to remembrance all those who were 
absent, and dearest to my heart, commending them to 
the care of One who surely cared for them, she might be 
sure I did not forget her either. 

I lay awake many hours that night, thinking of the 
poor child so ill whilst I was far away ; thinking of 
her as I first knew her, the little, blithe, winsome thing, 
with whom all the pleasantest associations of my moun- 
tain life were blended ; thinking of her as I last saw her, 
standing by my side in the gloomy twilight, till I realised 
more than ever how utterly all systems of religion fail 
in giving comfort to the dying, save the Christian, and 
how vague and hopeless and remote is the Nirvana of 
the Buddhist. Falling asleep at last, it was only natural 
that I should see her in my dreams. Now she was 
lying on her little bed of ferns, and I was reading to 
her ; now again she seemed to be a saint in a church 



/ DREAM OF LA TWO. 56 r 



window, with an aureola round her head, standing- with 
an amulet or charm-box in her hand, which even in my 
dream I seemed to wonder at, as being an incouL^ruity ; 
then somehow the amulet seemed to change into a cross, 
and then again into flowers. The sun was shining 
through the window, as I fancied, and the rainbow 
colours of her raiment fell upon the pavement, and some 
also upon me. Then I saw her sitting in the position 
in which I had always hoped to paint her ; and then she 
dissolved into a picture again, and was the ' Madonna 
di Sedile ' at Florence, the expression of whose face no 
artist, of all the hundreds who have copied it — as though 
the hand that painted it had almost been divine — has 
yet been able to reproduce. Then I awoke, and falling 
asleep again I saw her once more as she used to be, 
strong and well, cutting down the long canes of bamboo 
for my pony as of old ; and there were the buffalo, the 
hut, and the chongas of milk, and the whole pastoral 
scene rose pleasantly before me. 



4 C 



CHAPTER LIV. 

THE SEPOYS KEEP THEIR EVE UPON ME. 

The next morning we despatched two baggage coolies 
for home, laden with things we no longer needed. To 
a third, who bore Lattoo's lettei" only, we gave instructions 
to travel as fast as he could, to deliver it into her own or 
her father's hands, and then to return with news to the 
great Rungheet, and await our arrival there ; for, having 
no load to carry, he ought to reach Darjeeling at least 
three days before the rest. 

Now that day had come, and the cheerful and joyous 
sun was shining, I felt far less desponding about her 
than I did last night. After all, perhaps she was not so 
dangerously ill as they had said, and I might still see 
her once again. At any rate I could do nothing ; so I 
tried to be as hopeful as I could, and while I made rapid 
sketches of the Goompa and its surroundings, the time 

passed pleasantly enough. F meanwhile scoured the 

country, and explored the valleys ; the Sepoys not fol- 
lov.ang him on his explorations, as might reasonably have 
been expected. They did not even watch C 's move- 
ments, who remained inside his tent all the morning, 
writing, where, surrounded with despatch boxes and im- 



/ AM WATCHED. 563 



portant-looking papers tied with red tape, he could be 
seen by any one passing by the open doorway, a circum- 
stance which might, one would think, have aroused their 
suspicions ; but they confined their attentions to me, 
never leaving my side for an instant, no doubt thinking 
I was bent on mischief. 

My own idea is. that they regarded my easel and 
formidable sketching paraphernalia as an apparatus for 
mapping out the country, and looked upon me as a sort 
of government surveyor ! Nor was this supposition at 
all unreasonable, for it cannot fail to be within their 
recollection that war had followed closely upon Dr. 
Hooker's visit to their country, although he was only a 
' poor harmless leaf collector,' as the Kajee himself had 
called him. The fear of ' annexation ' is the very bane 
and dele noir of these people's lives ; and I must confess I 
do not envy the feelings of the otherwise happy and 
thriving peasantry, in the knowledge that they have a 
powerful and a greedy nation — as they think — on the 
borders of their own land, which could swallow them up 
at a single gulp, w^ere it so minded. 

In vain both Narboo and Tendook explained that 
I was merely making ' taswir.' Looking at them du- 
biously, as though they regarded them as traitors to 
their country, and parties to the dreadful conspiracy, 
they shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders, 
and appeared more mystified than ever. They pulled 
their mustaches — that is to say, the few who possessed 



564 



THE INDIAN A IPS. 



those adornments, whilst those who did not sought dih- 
gently over the Sahara-Hke desert of their chins for a 
stray hair that might have survived the ravages of the 
tweezers at the morning's plucking — and then pressed 
more closely round me than before, commenting on my 
proceedings in subdued but very perplexing whispers. 
The Lamas, however, looked on complacently, and gave 
me no annoyance beyond their having eaten garlic for 




breakfast, and offered up their early sacrifice of 'tsceang,' 
the remains of whose morning incense was anything but 
pleasing. 

' Mem Sahib ! what (^r^ you doing ?' enquired one of 
the Sepoys at length, apparently unable to bear the 
suspense any longer. 

' Only making a picture of your beautiful country,' I 
replied, Narboo interpreting, ' in case I should forget it 
when I am far away.' 



'What! Have you no trees and mountains then in 
your own country ? It cannot be for this ow\y that you 
have come hither.' 

As to the Kajee, I cannot but think we were 
indebted for his civiUty solely to the knowledge 
he possessed, that the loss of part of the territory, in 
J 849, was entirely due to his and the Dewan's gross 
treatment of Drs. Hooker and Campbell, and that the 
only way to counteract whatever evil intentions we might 
previously have possessed, was to strive to conciliate us, 
by showing ourselves and our people every possible con- 
sideration. 

The remainder of the day was spent in gossiping with 

the monks, with whom F and I had grown quite 

familiar, each having our especial favourites, and know- 
ing all by sight. As we were to leave on the morrow, 
some of our men came up to the Goompa to receive the 
blessing of the chief Lama — Pugla-wallah of course 
amongst the number. Our own parting, too, with these 
kind and hospitable monks was almost affectionate, for 
we would fain have lingered longer in their midst. 
Through Tendook we learnt more and more about 
them, and were none the less impressed in their favour. 
These followers of Budh, living lives of devotion and 
meditation, year after year, through winter frost and 
summer sunshine, amidst the great solitudes of nature, 
are, to m.y mind, one of the most interesting features of 
the glorious Himalaya. 



566 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



As Budh, or Boodha, reached principles of uni- 
versal brotherhood amongst all tribes and nations, his 
followers have no particular caste. From this fact one 
would suppose them to be the more accessible to the 
• truths of Christianity ; but, as yet, little has been done 
to convert the Buddhists of the Sikkim Himalaya, com- 
pared with other missions. As far as I am aware, the 
Church of England has sent none of its missionaries 
to work amongst them. The Lutherans some years ago 
sent several to labour on the Moravian, or self-support- 
ing, principle, but the blending of ' God and Mammon ' 
did not answer well ; and except in rare instances, the 
German mission proved rather a failure, more than one 
having yielded to the seductive influences of tea-planting ; 
whilst others became pork merchants, one of whom, 
finding the latter, carnally speaking, more remunerative, 
at length devoted his whole energies to the practice of 
that art. May the Recording Angel drop a tear, and 
blot out the register against him of this inglorious 
departure from his first love ! 

Having listened at daybreak to the instruments of 
torture for the last time, we were preparing for the start 
the following morning, the tent-pegs being knocked out 
of the ground. I was still inside busily finishing the 
packing of portmanteaus, &c., when the old priestess, 
and several of the women who had visited me yesterday, 
came to say farewell. Perceiving that I did not make 
my exit, they evidently imagined, in some nebulous 



THE IX> INS ON MENDONGS. 567 

kind ol way, that I weis to be packed bodily uj) in tluj 
tent, and conveyed like l _ l^„._ the baggage. Deter- 
mining to have anc^*^^ '' njjse, they first peeped at 
me througli the chinks \\\ l^ic _cinva.s, and then made a 
most unscrupulous invasion nuo tne tent itself, and it was 
not without considerable diffjcui lat I could o-et rid of 
them. Some of i-lie Lamas, ^, descended from the 
"^•ooxupa to see t-^e last of u= and wish u.-. -> hearty 'God 
speed.' At nine o'clock w ^'i>,. ' .^j:ing place 
withgrea. ' ':tance, passing for tjx. v miles of our 
march many large ' mendongs,' and feel ^ jm these 
indications that we were still on sacred ground. One of 
these contained no less than forty-three slabs, bearing the 
usual inscriptions, as well as figures of Budh himself, in his 
accustomed attitude, and with the same passionless stare 
on his counten- except in one instance, in which, an eye 
having been kuociced out of him, he looked as though he 
,.ere wi'^^'' / at our people as they plodded along. 

These inscriptions read from right to left, and it was 
curious to note th*^ care those of our men took who 
happe a lo pass on the right of the mendong, to do so 
without looking at it, lest perchance they should read the 
sacred words backwards. Even the Lepchas have great 
dread and a superstitious horror of so doing. One of 
these mendongs was so exceedingly ancient that we could 
scarcely discern any inscriptions at all, save those wrought 
by old Time, which had written long sermons, in blurred 
letters, but very eloquent language. Above all waved 



568 



TBE INDIAN A IPS. 



the branches of a funereal cypress, hung with bits of 
coloured rag, telling that some faithful Buddhist had 
bivouacked here not long ago, and made his lonely 
orisons. 

On our way we meet a woman in the attire of a 
priestess, carrying a ' mani,' which she keeps twirling 
mechanically as she walks along. Other women also 

pass us, carrying 
sickly looking chil- 
dren in baskets on 
their way to the 
Goompa, to procure 
medicine and other 
forms of the healing 
art, in the shape of 
exorcisings, incanta- 
tions, &c. 

We are now once more in stirring life amongst the 
rustics, and smiling women wave salutations to us as we 
pass, w^hilst standing in their balconies, with spindle and 
distaff, for they are more civilised here by association with 
the monks, and watch us without fear. Like Zangting 
the land here is everywhere in a high state of cultivation, 
showing that the inhabitants are an industrious and thriv- 
ing people. Amongst other things, we were particularly 
struck with the neat enclosures round each field, made 
of split bamboo canes, placed crosswise, the whole form- 
ing a picture of contentment and good husbandry. 




Comlnnr to a streamlet, C called a halt, and shouted 

for breakfast. The cook was following closely behind us, 
but the more important functionary bearing the commis- 
sariat was nowhere to be seen. 

A fire was made in readiness, however, for the break- 
fast we zvere to have ; but as he did not overtake us, we 
were forced to the unwilling conclusion, that on this 
occasion he must have gone on before, elated probably 
by the parting blessing in the shape of ' murwa,' which 
the hospitable Lamas no doubt had given them, before 
saying farewell. The moment we arrived at this appal- 
ling conclusion, under a deep sense of personal injury, 
we sent the chef flying down the mountain-side in hot 
pursuit, with instructions to bring the offender back, by 
the hair of his head if necessary. 

' He'll turn up all right,' exclaimed F-: , throwing 

himself on the ground, and lighting a cigar, that refuge 

for the hungry; but C and I, with no such source of 

comfort and consolation, stood peering through a field- 
glass for the first signs of the returning coolie. Now I 
fancied I saw him : but no, alas ! it was only the stump 
of an old tree. 

'There he is!' exclaimed C , 'and the coolie be- 
hind.' 

But it turned out to be only a Lama, followed by a 
Bhootia cow. As we waited thus, with our emotions sub- 
jected to alternate states of elation and depression, more 
than an hour elapsed before we saw the cook returning, 

4 D 



S70 



THE INDIAN AIFS. 



and even then alone, upon which we decide to go in 
pursuit ourselves. 

Entering a forest, we followed a broad pathway for 
some considerable distance, till we came upon one 
diverging from that we were traversing ; and then, 
and not till then, did the awful truth dawn upon us. 
*Sprot' had no doubt mistaken this path for the one he 
should have pursued, and our hopes of coming across 
him faded away. Poor wretch ! we never thought of 
him, I am afraid ; but — the basket and its contents might 
be gone for ever. 




A GIGANTIC CALAMUS. 57, 



CHAPTER LV. 

WE OVERTAKE THE TIFFIN COOLIE, AND GRILL WHILST OUR 
MOORGHEE IS UNDERGOING THE SAME PROCESS. 

Descending the mountain, we were soon greeted by the 
distant roar of the Kullait, which we must cross before 
we can arrive at Rinchingpoong, our next camping 
place. The vegetation, now changing rapidly, becomes 
unlike anything we had yet seen ; the tall straight trunks 
of the forest trees, principally sol, being completely 
taken possession of by an enormous serpent-like climber, 
which, winding itself round and round the trees, gra- 
dually strangles them by the process, reminding one 
of the ' Laocoon.' In some instances the trees them- 
selves have not only decayed, but crumbled away, 
and the columns formed by the climber, which are 
both hollow and spiral, present one of the most singu- 
lar phenomena in nature. The leaves of this gigantic 
parasite — a calafnus—^r^ vivid green, with a crimson 
and purple lining, measuring ten or twelve inches 
across. Choking everything in its cruel embrace, it 
roams the whole forest, till every tree is seized in its 
mighty grip. 



Kokras also abound at this elevation, which coo 
plaintively, like our wood pigeon. The further we 
descend the more enormous becomes the forest-king, 
whose many-coloured leaves, creating a thick canopy, 
completely shut out the sky, its columns covered with 
rich traceries, formed by other and smaller parasites, that 
take possession of it in their turn. Here were seen 
the pointed arch, the fretted dome, the long aisle, and 
many painted windows ; and we felt we were in a vast 
cathedral, where the kokras kept up a perpetual choral 
service. 

The undergrowth is very slight in this forest, the soil 
consisting of loose sand ; but I observed a very beautiful 
species of climbing fern, in full fructification, with serrated 
fronds, wonderfully fragile. As if emulating its monster 
prototype, it was catching hold of and playfully encircling 
everything within its reach, so that between them both 
bush and tree must have a hard life of it. 

From the deep gorge at our feet now ascends the 
noise of myriads of cicadae, a fly three inches long, 
which produces a peculiarly shrill and metallic ' clack, 
clack,' very painful to the ear, and almost deafening, 
when one is in their vicinity. The sound is caused by 
two horny plates across the back ; and it would seem 
that man is a creature to whom music is a necessity, 
these cicadae having been formerly used by the primitive 
people of the country as an instrument for the purpose. 
The plates, when pressed, create a modulation of sound, 



ARRIVAL OF TJIE TIFFIN COO LI F. 573 



which by practice and careful manipulation can be con- 
verted into a tune. 

At length we reached the banks of this noble river, 
and were overtaken by the tiffin coolie. As we sus- 
pected, he had taken the wrong path, and after some 
time, not finding himself followed by any of the rest, had 
wisely resolved upon retracing his steps. We were far 
too hot and weak, from prolonged hunger, to scold him 
as severely as he deserved ; and sheltering ourselves 
as well as we could from the burning sun, we sat and 
grilled, whilst the ' moorghee ' was undergoing the same 
process over the fire opposite. 

Here we had to wait till the river, one hundred and 
fifty feet broad, was bridged ; and the usually phlegmatic 
Tendook miofht be seen clambering^ over rocks in a state 
of great excitement, threading his way in and out of the 
jungle which skirted its margin, in his endeavour to find 
some place where it was less broad, and might be spanned 
with safety. At last a spot was found where some large 
boulders in mid stream lessened its breadth, and jutting 
above the surface of the torrent, formed piers for the 
frail timbers to rest upon. In an hour a sufficiently 
strong bridge was constructed to take us over the boiling 
flood, and land us safely on the opposite shore. Where the 
current was less strong, some of the coolies swam across, 
striking out with each arm alternately, instead of both at 
the same moment. 

The mountain we now climb is covered with a 



574 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



dense undergrowth of wormwood, through which a path- 
way has to be cut. The natives use the dried wood, 
of this herb as a tonic, which, when steeped in boihng 
water, makes a bitter and astringent drink. It is also 
much in use amongst Europeans. As is invariably the 
case, in proximity to these bushes, we were instantly 




covered with large green caterpillars, and also attacked 
for the first time by the poisonous leech — a leech 
much smaller than that we are accustomed to see in 

England. F was the first to make the discovery 

by an intense smarting in his left foot, and on sitting 
down to ascertain the cause, he found that one had 
actually managed to work its way down into the toe of 
his boot. Tendook also was similarly attacked, and his 
feet and legs were bleeding sadly. 



ENCAMPMENT A 2' RINCHINGPOONG. 575 

Travelling at this time of year, we fortunately escape 
the intolerable plague of these little pests, which exists 
during the rains, when natives passing through the jungle 
get infested with them by hundreds. The creatures even 
insinuate themselves beneath the tight bandages, with 
which they endeavour to shield their feet and legs from 
their bite. 

When we reach the summit of the gorge, blue sky 
and purple mountains are once more visible. Looking 
across to Pemionchi, fourteen miles distant, behind which 
the stupendous Kinchinjunga rears its glittering crest, 
we once more catch sight of the Goompa, a tiny black 
speck on its summit, and soon reach the site of our 
encampment at Rinchingpoong. Here we are on historic 
if not on classic ground, it being the precise spot where 
our English soldiers were treacherously attacked by the 
Rajah of Sikkim's forces, twenty times their number, 
whom they bravely withstood notwithstanding. 

Our arrival had not been anticipated here at any rate, 
and as our numbers, augmenting each moment, began to 
look formidable, beardless and effeminate-looking men, 
leaving their occupations, ascended from a little hollow 
in the mountains below, where peaceful huts like bee- 
hives lay nestling. Timid women also crept up after 
them, all regarding us with great wistful eyes, as 
if wondering what this unexpected aggression could 
possibly mean, their bewilderment increasing tenfold 
when we lighted fires, pitched tents, and in other ways 



576 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

seemed to be permanently establishing ourselves in 
their neighbourhood. 

Then, as shadows lengthened, and the goiden line of 
light athwart the mountains ascended higher and higher 
with the sinking sun, the Mahomedan's vesper hour ap- 
proached. Our kitmutgar, a true son of the Prophet, 
who until now had been sitting balanced on his heels, as 
he choked over the gurgling hubble-bubble, left this 
delightful exercise, and was on his feet in an instant, and 
throwing his chuddah on the ground, and facing the west, 
began ' kowtowing ' to the day-god, utterly regardless of 
whoever might be looking on. They do not ' enter into 
their closets,' these followers of Mahomed, but love to 
pray in ' market-places ' and crowded thoroughfares, 
but they seem none the less sincere for a' that. 

Thrice a day should the good Moslem prostrate him- 
self to the dust; but our kitmutgar is the only one who, 
as far as I see, of all the followers of his creed who are 
in camp (and they are not a few), performs any de- 
votions at all. The others probably, as wayfarers, have a 
direct dispensation from the Prophet, or may be allowed 
to combine all three offices in one ; and a truly wonder- 
ful performance it is, accomplished only by great plasticity 
of limb, and long practice. They kiss the earth, as sud- 
denly raise themselves, and stand erect without bending. 
They raise the arms, they genuflect, and doubling up 
again, bow the forehead to the dust — a process repeated 
many times. 



INTERRUPTED DEVOTIONS. 



S11 



F has little respect for the creed, or its worship- 
ers either, I am afraid, and, of all things, likes to inter- 
rupt them when engaged in their religious exercises. 
Pretending not to be aware of their occupation, he may 
be heard shouting from afar, ' Ho ! you kitmutgar there ; 
come here ; bring so and so,' etc. Now this entails — 
that is to say, if the order is regarded — the necessity of 
beginning his prayers all over again, for, according to 
their ritual, they may not go on where they left off ; so 
that I doubt whether the poor wretch was ever left in 
peace and quiet sufficiently long to get further than the 
middle of them at the best of times, if so far. Looking 
towards Pemionchi, we could fancy we almost heard its 
wild music, as the sun, declining behind the hills, sum- 
moned the monks to their devotions also. Nor have 
the Bhootias — 'benighted heathen' (?) — forgotten to 
pay their tribute to the Great Unseen, but have raised, 
according to their wont, a little cairn of stones, covered 
with the usual flags of 
many colours. 

About a mile distant 
stands another monastery, 
a three-storeyed building, 
with wooden balconies, 
shut in by jalousies ; such 
a quaint specimen of archi- 
tecture, all odds and ends, and apparently in a very 
untenantable condition. From its appearance I am 

4 E 




inclined to think the old Lama's statement was correct, 
and that since our annexation the monks have suffered 
great poverty, here at any rate, for they seemed to be 
in anything' but a flourishing- condition. Several ill-clad 
Lamas, of a much lower class I should say than those 
of Pemionchi, came across to us, on observing the estab- 
lishment of our camp, and with their wonted hospitality 
brought with them presents of rice, eggs, milk, and 
moorghees. 

Sitting outside our tent, we observed a group of Lim- 
boos, who, having killed a kid, and singed it over the 
fire to remove the hair, were roasting it whole, and de- 
vouring it skin and all. Repulsive as this may seem, 

C informs us subsequently that the Abors, a hill people 

in Assam, amongst whom he lived for some years, do not 
even kill their animals first, but actually roast them alive, 
declaring it adds to the flavour of the flesh. In another 
direction our cook — one of the Faithful — having finished 
his orisons, is busy over the flesh-pots of the ' Faringhi,' 
like one engaged in the mysteries of the cabalistic art, 
whilst his assistant, called a ' niashalshee' in the verna- 
cular, sits patiently grinding curry. C , meanwhile 

deep in housekeeping matters, may be seen struggling 
within the depths of his commissariat baskets as he 
stands up to his ankles in straw. Opposite, the Shikaree 
sits leisurely embalming the spoils of the woods, shot dur- 
ing the day's march. From below comes the peaceful 
murmur of our camp, and the little village, and the wild 



TWILIGHT. 579 



lowing of cattle, very different from that of our land ; and 
twilight gradually steals over us with its mellow and 
softening influences, till night at length unfolds her wing 
and soothes all to rest, when the silence is uninterrupted, 
as we sit in pleasant converse over our camp fire. 



58o THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER LVI. 



THE MOUNTAIN STORM. 



The following morning, rising very early, I lifted the 
flaps which formed the door of my little tabernacle, just 
at the moment of Earth's expectation of day, and watched 
the orient lights steal upwards, till the sky was bathed 
in an elysian glory. It was Sunday ; and a text, and a 
sermon too, were furnished to my hand. Surely there 
never was such a grand old preacher as Nature. 

At noon, whilst the sky above was azure, and all 
around bathed in a flood of sunshine, we watched a 
storm raging in the distance. Below the snowy range, 
volumes of cloud and leaden vapour, apparently whirled 
up from the arid plains, were melting in tremendous 
strife against the great buttress of Pemionchi, at which 
they rushed full tilt. 

It is singular to note how these storms frequently 
spend all their fury upon one solitary mountain. As if re- 
senting its impeding their further progress, they determine 
with thundering might to attack it. Travelling along the 
valley from east to west, black columns of heaving vapour, 
driven into collision by strong currents, were seen to 



THE MOUNTAIN STORM. 581 



scatter each other into fragments, Hke giant armies con- 
tending. It was a glorious sight to sit and watch tlie 
warfare, and see them strike the mountain spur, which 
seemed to repulse and drive them back by the very force 
and recoil of their own fury. 

Only once, thank God ! have I been in a storm in these 
mountains. Thank God, I say, and mean it ; for danger 
in them lurks, and unseen forces are at work, in the rend- 
ing rock and landslip, which constantly occur. On the 

occasion to which I refer, F and I had gone down to 

Kursiong, the little settlement of tea-planters which we 
passed through on our way to Darjeeling, and where the 
neglected and uncared-for cemetery is now a sweet little 
' God's-acre,' fenced in, and planted with shrubs ; and 
near it, on those who journey up the roadway from the 
plains, what time the sun is travelling towards the west, 
the shadow of the cross now falls, for there is an English 
church beside it, lately built — no matter by whose instru- 
mentality. 

In a quiet valley beneath Kursiong are chalybeate 
springs ; but not to drink the waters had we come, but 
for a few days' change of air and scene, and were 
putting up at the comfortable little road-side hotel. 

Having arrived at the limits of our stay, we had 
arranged to start homewards on the morrow, when the 
morrow's sun brought with it a cloud ' no bigger than 
a man's hand,' which travelling onwards, quickly spread 
itself over the whole expanse of sky, dishevelling the face 



582 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

of nature, and dimming the sun in heaven. The winds 
we meet with in the hills are usually south-easterly, bring- 
ing the clouds landwards, from a distance of 400 miles, 
where roll the mighty wind-tossed billows of the Indian 
Ocean, 

Down came the rain, pattering upon the wooden 
shingles of the roof of our hostel with an earnestness and 
determination which filled us with anxiety and forebod- 
ings concerning our morning's ride. Hoping it might sub- 
side in the course of a few hours, we postponed our de- 
parture till ten o'clock, at which time, as there seemed no 

probability of its ceasing, F , who had duty at Dar- 

jeeling which obliged him to return, decided upon starting 
himself, advising me to remain till the following day, 
when he promised to ride down to fetch me. 

Not liking to be left alone however, and feeling sure 
I could bear the journey as well as he could, being accus- 
tomed to a drenching — for one almost becomes amphibious 
after having survived one 'rainy season ' in the Himalaya, 
— I determined upon going too. 

Rainy season indeed ! — rather should it be called pelt- 
ing season, douching season, ducking season, drowning 
season, swishy, swashy, sloppy season ; anything in fact 
but the delusive and euphemistic title of ' rainy season,' 
suggestive of soft vernal showers. 

Our ponies accordingly having been brought round, we 
mounted in spite of the earnest entreaties on the part of 
mine host, who implored us to alter our plans, and not 



THE MOUNTAIN STORM. 583 



attempt the journey of twenty miles in such weather. But 
perfectly inexperienced as we then were as to the effects 
which a few hours' downpour produces on this road, and not 
feeling sure that the advice to prolong our stay was wholly 
disinterested, we started, the rain wetting us through and 
through before we had proceeded a quarter of a mile. 

The road to Darjeeling, as I have elsewhere said, is 
a broad and splendid one, skirting the mountains, and 
winding round their stupendous buttresses, like a tiny 
thread as seen from the distance, but in reality wide 
enough for fifteen horsemen to ride abreast. In the dry 
season it remains in good condition ; but during the rains 
a regular staff of ' Public Works ' officers are stationed 
at some part or other of the road, in readiness to repair 
injuries caused to it by landslips (many of which not un- 
frequendy occur in a single day) ; to remove obstructions 
created by portions of fallen rock, as well as to make 
and repair bridges, which span the various ravines and 
waterfalls. 

We had not gone more than two miles, when we 
seemed to come in for the thick of the storm. The rain, 
which at first came down perpendicularly, now descended 
in slanting sheets. On came cloud after cloud, scurrying 
past us, blown along by the wind, whilst the rain was 
absolutely blinding. My pony, albeit a plucky little beast, 
pulled up constantly, as though it felt quite unable to 
stem its fury, so mercilessly did it pelt him. 

' What is that in the distance ? ' I enquired of F 



584 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

in advance, as, turning a sharp angle in the road, we 
suddenly came in sight of a seething torrent, an opaque 
mass, of a deep red tinge, bearing down, like the flood- 
gates of a mighty river opened. ' That cannot be the 
Kursiong Fall ; it surely could not have swollen to such 
an extent in so few hours ! ' 

* Yes, it is,' replied he ; ' and see ! it covers the 
bridge, road, and everything with its waves. Come on 
fast, for it will get worse each moment we linger.' 

' Hark ! what is that '^ ' we both exclaimed simul- 
taneously, as a muffled sound reached us, like that of 
distant artillery, accompanied by a vibration in the air, 
and followed by what seemed the rattling of musketry. 
Instantly a tremendous portion of rock came crashing down 
with lightning speed, leaping from boulder to boulder, be- 
neath the turbid, seething, boiling mass, and then, bound- 
ing over the road, was lost in the gorge of the Balasun ; 
this fall feeding the river of that name, which flows 6,000 
feet below. 

I wondered whether it would be possible to pass it ; 

I felt my cheek blanch. F , however, did not leave 

me to decide ; but, with the promptitude and decision he 
invariably evinces in danger, he dismounted, and giving 
his pony's bridle to the syce, and seizing mine, we passed 
below it, the great volume of water falling with a plash 
and crash that were positively deafening, whilst the 
bridge trembled beneath our feet. My pony started as 
it came in for the extra douching; but F- 's firm grip 



THE MOUNTAIN STORM. S'^^S 

was upon him, and he almost dragged him forward, the. 
water tearing across the road in waves almost up to its 
knees. 

Proceeding further, we found not only that the falls 
themselves, and once placid mountain-streams, were in the 
state I have described, but that each ravine and gorge, in 
which there had been no appearance of water when we 
passed it only a few days ago, had become a boiling 
cataract. 

The tempest now grew more fierce, whilst the dark- 
ness was that of twilight, or an eclipse ; black cloud- 
armies, which met together from south and north with 
marvellous rapidity, coming into collision on the summit 
of Senshul, right ahead of us. The clouds opened, and 
a broad ribbon of electric fire struck downwards. At the 
same moment the thunder pealed forth ; both were 
simultaneous — the blinding flash and the deafening peal : 
nothing is ever done by halves in the Himalaya; the 
mountains shook, all nature trembled. Another flash of 
blue lightning, this time extending obliquely in an easterly 
direction. Bang, bang, boom, went the thunder ; whilst 
the wave of sound, driven back by one mountain, was 
caught by another, and another, followed by a thousand 
reverberations, till it was echoed by listening hills, miles 
and miles away, and heaven seemed bombarding earth 
with the whole of its grand* artillery. This did not alarm 
us, however ; we were too much used to thunder and 
lightning at Darjeeling to think much about it, and were 

4F 



once actually in a thunder cloud, the electric current 
flashing about us everywhere ; besides which, Senshul, its 
head buried in cloud, was the highest peak in this 
direction, on which the storm was certain to spend its 
fury. It was a grand and awful sight to see this warfare 
of the elements, as the angry clouds assailed its summit, 
scarcely more than 2,000 feet above us. We could 
almost fancy we saw the Spirit of the Storm riding 
on them, and urging them to battle. It was truly mag- 
nificent and miserable, for we could not ride fast 
enough against all these elements to keep ourselves 
warm, and the wind blew with cutting force through 
our drenched garments, and we were saturated through 
every pore. 

After a few moments there was an ominous lull ; the 
wind ceased, and there was complete silence save the 
roar of the thunder. The wind veered completely, 
blowing from north to south, increasing in violence each 
moment, till the clouds which enveloped us swept by 
with a speed which made us positively giddy, and we felt 
as if they were stationary and we ourselves were being 
borne along on the wings of the wind. 

See ! Yonder goes a splendid old tree, torn up by its 
roots. Watch it as it is whirled and tossed by the force 
of the eddying tide, as though it had been a mere log. 
Crash follows crash ; but on, still on we speed, till we reach 
another gorge, the bridge spanning which, we already 
knew, had been carried away by a previous storm, and 



THE MOUNTAIN STORM. 587 



was undergoing reconstruction ; a small temporary one, 
however, havinof been substituted for it. To cross this 
we should have to leave the main road, and follow a 
narrow pathway a short distance to the right. Until this 
moment the fact of the large bridge having been de- 
stroyed had escaped our memory ; and was it reasonable 
to suppose, after what we had witnessed, that the tem- 
porary one would still be standing '^ 

Deep anxiety was depicted in F 's countenance, 

as he bade me urge my pony forward. The same thought 
had evidently occurred to us both. If the little bridge 
were indeed broken, we were effectually cut off from 
Darjeeling; whilst it was more than an hour since we 
passed the Kursiong Fall, and we dared not think what 
it had become by this time ; probably the torrent had 
carried, not only the bridge, but the road itself down 
the ' khud,' rendering all passage impossible. Another 
angle of the winding road, and we came close to it, and 
found it still standing. F alighted, and hastily ex- 
amining it, cried : 

' Now or never ! Have you the courage ? ' 
Without waiting a reply, he seized my pony's bridle, 
and with a desperate effort induced the affrighted animal 
to cross it. As we did so we felt the planks upheave, 

whilst the torrent swept beneath. F 's syce quickly 

followed with the other pony ; and once safely arrived on 
the other side, we remained under the shelter of an over- 
hanging rock, to give our ponies a few minutes' rest, and 



588 THE INDIAN AIPS. 

watch the breaking up of the bridge, which we knew 
must happen almost immediately. 

Higher and higher rose the surging mass ; now it 
submerged it. Still it held out bravely, and not for a 
full quarter of an hour did it succumb. Then, with a 
tremendous crash, the posts gave way, and the planks, 
which had been resisting greater pressure every instant, 
wrenched asunder, were borne down into the boiling sea, 
as though they had been straws. 

Terrible sounds were heard in the air, as portions of 
earth gave way above and below us, followed by the 
dull thud of falling soil. Now again the hollow boom 
and echo of some riven rock ; now the crash of some 
noble tree. The thunder still pealed, though the light- 
ning was less vivid, the angry storm, having spent 
enough of its fury on Senshul, now travelling westward 
to ' have it out ' with some other mountain top. 

But our danger, instead of lessening, increased each 
step, as the soil became saturated with moisture; and we 
rode on in silence, not knowing what might happen at 
any moment. Two or three years ago a fearful landslip 
occurred near Darjeeling, carrying a whole village down 
the ' khud,' and burying huts and their dwellers in its 
dibi^'is. These landslips are more to be dreaded than 
aught else, as they may happen at any part of the road. 

Reaching a spot within eight miles of Darjeeling, we 
saw a tree lying across the road, and found two bullocks 
lying dead beside it, the hackery to which they were 



attached being smashed to atoms, whilst one of the 
bullocks was literally cut in two. It was a sickening 
sight, and the ponies could not be induced to pass it 
till they had been blindfolded, the red flood eddying 
down the road. 

Another turn, and embosomed in trees, we saw before 
us the little wooden chalet, or hostel, which forms the 
only break for travellers along this twenty miles of road ; 
and, having once reached it, we thankfully took refuge, 
determining to remain till the rain should have ceased, 
and the water in the ravines subsided. 

What a luxury to be under cover once more ! and to 
hear even mutilated English spoken in these wilds, as 
the buxom hostess — surely born to be a landlady — 
greets us at the homely porch, and asks us to walk in. 

With her help — for she ransacked her boxes for 
dry clothes — I was soon sitting before a blazing wood 
fire, in a dress very much too big for me, particularly 
about the neck and waist. The good woman meanwhile 
in an adjoining room was busy in the preparation of a 

repast ; whilst F went off to the stables to see after 

the well-being of the ponies. Moralising as I sat waiting, 
I came to the conclusion that Solomon was somewhat 
wrone in his ethics after all, and that ' a contented mind 
is a continual feast ' only so long as one is not hungry. 

Soon after our arrival a party of equestrians, amongst 
whom we recognised old acquaintances, came galloping 
up. They had also been overtaken by the storm on 



59° THE INDIAN ALPS. 

their way from Darjeeling, but having taken sheher in a 
hut by^he wayside, were scarcely in such a thoroughly 
moist condition as that in which we had arrived. Few 
travellers, even in fair weather, feel disposed to pass this 
lonely little hostelry without paying it a friendly visit ; and 
truly a more inviting and peaceful little place could hardly 
be found in which to sojourn awhile. It is built entirely 
of wood, and surrounded by primeval forest. In 'fine 
vicissitude ' a mountain streamlet, meandering down the 
steep declivity through deep hollows, flows on either side 
with a soft murmuring sound. 

Many weeks have we spent in this homely little 
chalet ! wandering through the sombre labyrinth of its 
primeval forests, by mossy glen and ferny dell ; the 
mountain peak, seen through the fern-clad trunks of the 
forest trees ; the cloud drift that hangs beneath its sum- 
mit ; the faint colours of the dawn, the shimmering heat 
of noontide, the pathos which calm evening brings, the 
purity of moonlight, and the silent majesty of night, all, 
all speaking of something far beyond itself — a glory in- 
definable, but real notwithstanding — which I can never 
find words to express. 

In an hour's time the rain ceased ; and it was 
glorious then to watch the vapour ascend the valleys, 
and hang about the black scarped precipices, and tree- 
clad mountain- tops which held it fast. 

In the evening, by which time the torrents had sub- 
sided — which they do with a rapidity no less marvellous 



JlVt RESUME OUR JOURlsfEY. 



591 



than that with which they appear — wc resumed our 
journey to DarjeeHng-, and learnt on reaching it that 
seven landsHps had occurred in the immediate neigh- 
bourhood, carrying away portions of some roads, and 
blocking up others. 




592 THE INDIAN ALPS. 



CHAPTER LVII. 



THE RISHEE. 



Having halted at Rinchingpoong yesterday — for I now 
resume the account of our journey in Sikkim — we were 
to make up for our day's rest by starting earHer than 
usual this morning, having a long march before us. We 
strike tents therefore whilst the silver mist still sleeps 
in the valleys, and the lower mountains are only tipped 
with the sun's golden finger. 

Travelling due south for some considerable distance, 
we began to descend a steamy tropical gorge ; and here 
again another change of scene awaited us. We were 
now in a region choked with vegetation, and wholly 
tropical, and passed under many varieties of palm, 
whose plumes gently waved overhead, and whose trunks 
furnished a home for wondrous aerial plants and orchids 
in bloom, the atmosphere being laden with the perfume 
of flowers. Wending our way through this labyrinth of 
green, I was under the impression for a long time 
that we were approaching some native village, from the 
perpetual sound of that which I alone imagined could pro- 
ceed from a blacksmith's forge. ' Chink, chink,' went the 



STRANGE SOUNDS. 593 



supposed hammer upon the anvil, with measured stroke, 
whilst another produced a ' chink, chink,' in a slightly 
different note, creating that discordant, yet at the same 
time musical and metallic, sound which proceeds from 
a blacksmith's shed. So entirely suggestive was it, that 
one could not help picturing to one's self the form of the 
swarthy Vulcans, as they wielded the hammer with 
unerrlnof hand. 

Presently the sound grew fainter, and on enquiring I 
found that it was produced by a bird which inhabits a 
certain elevation in these mountain gorges. This was 
soon exchanged for the ' clack, clack' of the cicadae, and 
the screech of monkeys, which climbed the trees to have 
a better look at us, and blinked and scratched their bald 
heads in utter bewilderment, as though recognising us 
in some way as belonging to their species, yet unable 
to make us out. They peered querulously and earnestly 
through the palm-fronds. Some, looking at us over their 
shoulders, clutched the branches with nervous grip ; 
others faced us boldly, as much as to say, ' Come on ! ' 
* Hadn't you better try } ' 'I'm your match,' and so 
on ; and then scuttled away into the denser forest utter- 
ing a shrill whoop which made the gorge ring far and 
near. 

As we scrambled down the mountain side, an insect 
now greeted us with a singular but very musical noise, 
resembling the perpetual and loud ringing of a hand-bell, 
and the air was full of the hum of busy insect life. In 

4G 



594 THE INDIAN AIFS. 

this land, so fruitful of living creatures, one cannot help 
being forcibly struck with the singular way in which not 
only bird and insect, but floral life also, has its habitat in 
particular belts or zones. 

We were now surrounded by such rank luxuriance of 
vegetation, that the eye could not penetrate it, and the 
opposite side of the gorge, and the river at our feet, were 
alike hidden, as with a leafy curtain. After passing more 
palms, we brushed our way through tall pampas-grass, 
crowned with its flossy heads of violet bloom, and reached 
the Rishee, a babbling stream, filtering itself through 
mossy stones, beneath trees from which hang parasites 
in flower. What a festival of perfume and colour here 
awaited us ! Such a fairy Eden and ' Midsummer Night's 
Dream ' was it altogether, that one regretted one could 
no longer believe heart and soul in fairies ! 

Here it was destined that we should remain an hour or 
two, the river having to be crossed. Watching the coolies 
wade it in the shallows, I threw myself down on the soft 

carpet of ferns on its margin, whilst F and C 

went off to find a place where it could be bridged. Gor- 
geous butterflies flitted everywhere around us, or poised 
themselves on stones just peeping above the surface of 
the water, their wings erect, like ocean nautili in full sail. 
Dragon-flies skimmed hither and thither, playing at ' hide 
and seek' ; long prosaic chrysalides, swathed in their 
white sheets like new-made mummies, lay stretched on the 
horizontal branches of the trees ; others dangled beneath 



the branches, suspended by tiny threads, and encased in 
coffins of silver and gold, awaiting Nature's call to burst 
their fetters and flee away. These 'aurelias,' of which 
there are two kinds, are wondrously beautiful. The fibre, 
or whatever it may be, in which they are enclosed has all 
the appearance of polished metal ; and some seem made 
of brightest silver, others of brightest gold. 

A dusty bee, now crawling up my dress, first covers 
me with golden pollen, and buzzing about my ear, as if 
expecting to find honey, stings me for the disappointment, 
and hies away. Looking upwards, I find that I am 
being surrounded by a little army of cocoons, which un- 
folding themselves from the leaves in which they had lain, 
and unwinding their silken threads, came tumbling head 
over heels upon me, no doubt thinking me the shortest 
way to the ground. Lizards, darting to and fro, left their 
scaly tails behind them, and everything was instinct with 
vitality. 

During this digression the temporary bridge across 
the Rishee has been constructed, and the khansamah and 

F now simultaneously appeared to announce that 

' tiffin ' is ready further up the river. We reached our 
trysting-place just in time to see Fanchyng — who had 
come hither to fetch water — standing on a stone in 
mid-stream, creating a little island of brightness all 
amongst the dark trees, as a wandering waif of sun- 
shine, glancing through the foliage, shone upon her many- 
coloured dress, and crowned her with a shower of 



596 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

golden shimmer. It was a sweltering valley, and we did 
small justice — for the first time, I may truly say, since we 
started on our travels — to the ample tiffin that lay spread 
before us, as we sat listening to the river, which, trickling 
over stones, struck notes as sweet as those of an ^olian 
harp. We miss the ' ozone,' that tonic of the mountains ; 
but soon, toiling up the sultry gorge, we found ourselves 
once more in a bracing atmosphere ; and on looking back 
whence we had climbed, we could see a deadly miasmatic 
vapour floating above the river, unseen when we were 
enveloped in it, and felt truly thankful that we were not 
obliged to bivouac there for the night. 

Sunset found us encamped on the green banks of the 
Great Rungheet, after having almost proved the death of 
an old patriarch, who, tending a herd of buffalo and cows, 
was apparently the sole inhabitant of the valley. Seeing 
a vast legion bearing down upon him from the heights, he 
probably thought the end of all things had arrived, or 
else that we were coming down to ' annex ' him, cows, 
buffalo, and all. We witnessed his discomfiture a long 
way off whilst gradually descending the mountain, and 
observed him throwing his arms about wildly, as he knelt 
on the banks of the river, no doubt imploring the god of 
that element to save him, till at length rushing into it he 
seemed about to attempt to swim to the opposite shore. 
Then, as if it suddenly occurred to his mind that in the 
event of that deity disappointing him, he must inevitably 
perish in the boiling flood, he decided upon propitiating 



jyji: BIVOUAC. 597 



the terrestrial deities instead, and ran to meet us in an 
attitude of supplication. 

The poor fellow looked perfectly terror-stricken, 
obviously regarding us as dwellers of another world, 
though whether of the higher or lower we were compelled 
to remain in painful doubt. Nor did his fears abate until 
assured by our people that we were nothing more than 
harmless travellers from Darjeeling on our homeward way, 
having been on a * pilgrimage to the sacred shrine of Pemi- 
yonchi ; ' which consoling information not only completely 
calmed his fears, but conciliated him to such an extent that 
he returned to his hut and brought thence a large moorghee 
and a chonga of new milk for our benefit. After this, lying 
down within my tent, which was soon pitched, I watched 
our servants through the open doorway flit to and fro. 
Shadows vague and mysterious, lengthening with the 
day's decline, fell across the sward. Everything was 
noiseless, for most of the people of our camp were reposing 
after their hard day's toil ; a soft haze hung over the 
mountains, and with eyes half closed, I seemed, though 
awake, to be once more dreaming in a world of mist and 
shadows. But 'Nature abhors a vacuum,' and I was 
not sorry, after all, to hear the prosaic announcement soon 
made that dinner was ready. 

The banks of the Rungheet, however, prove any- 
thing but pleasant pastures to bivouac in for the night. 
On retiring to my tent at the usual hour, I found, to my 
horror, three immense frogs. Shouting to F to 



598 



THE INDIAN A IPS. 



eject the intruders, I climbed upon some portmanteaus, 
where I could survey the manoeuvres of the enemy 
from a safe vantage-ground. 

The next day we reached the little village of Nam- 
shee, whose chief feature is the residence of Lasoo 
Kajee, a person of some considerable importance in 
his country. We found all our tents, glistening home- 




like in the sun, pitched in readiness for our arrival. Our 
march hither led us through plantations of tobacco, 
as well as cotton, in all stages of its growth, from 
the sparse-leafed flower on its fragile stem, to the rich 
ripe pod, which is something like an exaggerated acorn. 
The flower, which is of a pale primrose colour, with a 
pencilling of brown on its petals, resembling that of the 
single hollyhock. When the pod has once burst, the 



cotton, of snowy whiteness, which hangs from three to four 
inches in length, is prevented by a wise provision of nature 
from falHng to the ground, and getting sulHed, by innumer- 
able small fibres, which hold it to the pod till it is gathered 
in, A field of ripe cotton in the distance presents an ap- 
pearance of newly fallen snow. In one of these we were 
met by a number of women, who bore down upon us with 
large bouquets of wild flowers ; and very beautiful they 
were — not the women, but the flowers. Here we received 
quite an ovation, and had again to submit to the seduc- 
tions of murwa. 

At night, however, all the cows and pigs of the 
village came burrowing, as usual, beneath our tents ; 
and later still we were again favoured with the pastoral 
melody of jackals, which discoursed ' plaintive ' music. 
In this instance, however, the lullaby took the form of a 
solo. A singular thing, for these warblers of the night 
—nightingales as F calls them — are decidedly gre- 
garious, and the visitation of one only is regarded as an 
ill omen by these superstitious people, which the increased 
dismalness of the wail of this one in particular would cer- 
tainly seem to indicate. A child, too, screamed for a 

full hour, and C , between sleeping and waking, was 

seized with a misty idea that they were offering it up as 
a sacrifice to some deity or other, and was only prevented 
from prosecuting his praiseworthy intentions of going out 

to ascertain by falling asleep again. F , too, was 

violently attacked by leeches. During the night I was 



6oo' 



THE INDIAN AIFS. 



awakened by the smell of smoke, and my first thoughts 
were that the tent was on fire ; but opening my eyes, I 
beheld him seated on a pyramid of baggage, smoking 
like a chimney, whilst appropriately reading Dante's 
' Inferno,' hoping at that distance from the ground to 
escape the ravages of these blood-thirsty companions. 







THE HIMALAYAN NIGHTINGALE. 



CHAPTER LVIII. 



REGRET. 



MoRNiNCx broke at last ; a streak of golden light, then 
a sudden burst of glory, and the sun rose in all the 
splendour of his pageantry. We were soon up our- 
selves also, having if possible to reach British Sikkim ere 
it set again. The first objects that arrested our attention 
were several monks who had come down from unseen 
monasteries to greet us, wearing curious head-gear, 
covered with Thibetan devices in divers colours. From 
their dress they appeared to belong to quite a different 
order from those of either Pemionchi or Rinchingpoong. 
Before leaving Namshee we were taken to see the 
Kajee's house, a large square mud building, with over- 
hanging roof. The private apartments of this magnate, 
however, we were not permitted to enter, being, I imagine, 
considered too sacred for the footfall of the ' Faringhi ; ' 
but, strange as it may seem, we were conducted notwith- 
standing to a small temple within the house, upon the 
altar of which a great number of religious emblems were 
arrayed ; the altar itself having two large elephants carved 
upon it. In the centre an unusually grotesque image of 

411 



6o2 



THE INDIAN AIPS. 




Budh rested ; and on each side of it several smaller 
ones, very much the worse for wear. On one side were 

shelves which contained 
manuscripts of the Bud- 
dhist Scriptures, bone 
trumpets, cymbals, an 
earthen pot for ' chee,' 
some curious copper ves- 
sels, wooden spoons* 
bowls, and the whole of 
the Kajee's culinary 
etceteras apparently. 
Hanging from the ceil- 
ing were festoons of rich brocaded silk, manufactured in 
Thibet. 

At noon we halted for breakfast in a wild gorge, close 
to a foaming torrent, which we afterwards crossed over a 
fallen tree, in which notches had been cut to prevent 
the feet from slipping. It was a nervous feat to accom- 
plish, the more so as we had to cross it singly. At two 
o'clock we found ourselves in British territory, on the 
opposite bank of the Rungheet, and were again in the 
midst of gold and silver fern, which we had not seen 
since leaving this beautiful valley on the commence- 
rnent of our journey. We gathered some to add to our 
llection of high elevation ferns, and on arrival at en- 
pment. tidied ah' for home, feeling very sad the while ; 
the morrow we must bid farewell not only to this 



REGRET. 



603 



sweet idyllic life, with all its picturesque surroundings ; 
to the tents, which have become little homes, filled with 

many pleasant associations ; to these happy Arcadians 

the people of our camp— but to our kind host also, to 
whom we had grown sincerely attached. Taking a rdstimd 
of the whole as for the last time we sit in pleasant con- 




verse, we all agree that there is nothing so charming as 
this bold, free, errant, half-civilised, half-barbarous life ; 
and sadly contemplating losing sight of all, we look back 
kindly and forgivingly upon each disagreeable by the 
way, for truly there is no earthly paradise without iis 
serpent, nor rose without its thorn. 

How odd it will seem once more to return to the w- 
of civilisation and to home duties, to receive a ' ^rfr 



6o4 THE INDIAN A IPS. 

newspaper and daily letters, to have a roof between us 
and the sky, to live in a house with windows in it, to 
return to visiting cards and ' burra klianas' to toilets and 
morning callers, and to be obliged to wear one's hair up, 
and to look spick and span and ladylike once more ! 

' And to return to shirt collars,' chimes in F , as 

though he felt himself neglected in not having been 
included in the category. ' And to have to get rid of 
this,' he added, 'just when a beard is beginning to 
become me ; ' affectionately stroking the scarce inch and 
a half of stubble he dignified with the name. 

Our return to Darjeeling, too, is but a nail in the 
coffin of our departure from these hills altogether — a 
thought that even now pursues me like a terrible night- 
mare, to whom Nature has become as necessary as my 
daily bread. ' Oh ! to see no more these golden skies of 
morn and eve, these crystal mountains pointing heaven- 
wards, these rugged pines and purple shadows ! No 
more to open the flaps of our tent and let in the sweet 
morning air, to look out upon the dewdrops glittering 
on the grass, and all before we are up in the morning ! ' 

* Dewdrops ! ' muttered F prosaically, in a sub- 
dued soliloquy. ' Far oftener frost and icicles ; and you 
didn't like that.' 

' No more to watch the mist float lazily over the blue 
mountains and faint away under the sun's thirsty beams ! 
No more to watch the day break over the hill-tops out of 
t^e still and solemn dawn ! No more to breathe these 



RETROSPECTION. 605 

exhilarating and health-giving breezes ! ' ' My dear, you 
forget that racking pain in your shoulder-blade that kept 
you awake at least three nights, and gave you no peace 
by day.* ' To lie awake at night, and feel amidst the 
great stillness with nothing but canvas between us and 
the sky, that we are part of very Nature herself, partak- 
ing; of her o-rand and sublime loneliness,' 

' Loneliness ! How about the fro^js, wife. I heard 
you growling tremendously over their presence in the 
tent only a night or two ago.' 

' No more to take our al fresco meals by gently purl- 
ing rills, or watch the cook preparing his savoury messes 

over the rustic camp fire ! To see no more ' 

'Hold!' cries F . 'Your Lament was almost 

poetical, till you came to the last phrase, to which I think 
you might have added that, picturesque and interesting as 
were the scenes that individual — the cook — created, since 
we were to partake of the savoury messes you so un- 
poetically allude to, it would have been better had we 
not been e3^e-witnesses to their manufacture.' 

It was here that I expected to have been met by the 
man whom I sent from Pemionchi with a letter to Lattoo, 
entreating him to hasten to Darjeeling, return with news 
of her, and await our arrival at this place. To the very 
end we seem doomed to be disappointed in the return of 
our messengers. A packet of home letters, however, 

soon arrives, forwarded by Mrs. C — , her husband 

having sent a Chuprassee some days ago informing her 



that we should be here to-day. We open them with 
beating" hearts, for one or two are from England, and 
how much may not have happened since we last had 
news ! Amongst the number also was one from the 
friend who knew and had visited Lattoo in her illness, and 
whose letter confirmed my worst fears. Lattoo was no 
more, having passed away — 'fallen asleep,' as the letter 
expressed it — three days previously. For these tidings I 
was almost prepared, for as the day drew gradually 
nearer for our return to Darjeeling, I had been trying to 
school myself into the belief that it was more than pos- 
sible I should find one of the attractions of my mountain 
life missing on my arrival there. Yet the shock was great 
notwithstanding, for in my affection for her all social in- 
equalities had been forgotten, and I felt that her nature 
and mine, though of different clime and nation and kindred 
and tongue, were yet one, and a chill went through my 
heart as I pictured to myself the little hut — the sunshine 
of her presence. 

Poor little Lattoo ! brief had been her life, but she 
was ill-fitted for the one that apparently lay before her ; 
and perhaps it is better so, for ' there's a divinity doth 
shape our ends, rough hew them how we will.' 

Deep in ' home news ' we sit, till the last gleam 
of golden day has set upon the mountains, and the fire- 
flies light their lamps and twinkle in the bushes, and the 
crescent moon glides up, irradiating rock, and tree, and 
flowing water, and the whole valley, with a tenderness 



DHAT/I OF LATTOO. 607 



far beyond the power of language to express. Far, far 
up, amongst the topmost trees, gleams, star-like, a solitary 
fire, where some Lepcha has his dwelling, as in an eyrie. 

A lamp, blazing through the doorway of C 's tent, 

shines upon the bushes outside, creating strange contrasts 
of glow and gloom in the pale moonlight ; whilst the wind, 
softly stirring the branches, sends little patches of yellow 
light glinting through the leaves, which dance upon the 
water. From afar comes once more the lowing of cattle 
straying in the jungle, and the plaintive cry — not of 
jackals this time, but of the barbet, in wondrous harmony 
with our feelings, and Nature ' helpeth the mood she 
findeth.' 

All are in the minor key, if one listens attentively — 
the songs of birds, the gentle rustle of the wind, the sub- 
dued roar of the great river, even the distant strains of 
little Rag's flute ; and one realises by close association 
with Nature that these dwellers, remote from civilisation, 
must have taken their first lessons from the great Teacher 
herself. The relation all Art bears to Nature becomes 
more and more apparent as day by day we travel in her 
midst, and she suggests objects to the mind— the pillared 
temple and Doric gateway in the beetling crag, the 
fretted dome and Gothic arch in the forest shade. One 
learns, too, the affinity each art bears to the other, and 
that music, painting, and poetry are, after all, but one, 
under different forms of expression ; as Plutarch says, 

Poetry is vocal painting, and painting silent poetry. 



Sitting outside our tents, strings of weird-looking men 
and women in coarse gabardines, carrying heavy loads, 
cast mysterious shadows on the white canvas as they 
noiselessly steal by ; and within the cooking tent our 
Moslem cook sits once more, arranging his pots and pans 
for the night, muttering a prayer, and no doubt reciting 
an extra chapter from the Koran — for have we not had 
ham for dinner, as an accessory to the conventional 
moorghee ? And is he not thereby rendered ' unclean,' 
by contact with the forbidden quadruped, though defunct 
and salted ? 

At the witching hour, camp fires die out for the last 
time, and the camp is hushed in sleep. Then is the air 
full of inarticulate melody, and the mystic voice of Nature 
begins to tell of things unseen. As I lie awake listening 
to the unceasing flow of the river close to which my tent 
is pitched, there come from below its surface mysteri- 
ous mutterings and plaintive moans like those of a 
human voice, very indistinct, yet real notwithstanding, 
and I can quite enter into the ancient belief in Naiads. 

So the peaceful night wears on till day appears, when 
we fold up our tents like the Arabs, and as silently steal 
away. Passing the Rungheet guard post, we recognise our 
old friend the Chowkeydar, who, off duty, is sitting out- 
side his hut cleaning his deckshees ; then wending our way 
through the forest of mimosa, whose branches droop as we 
approach, we ascend the mountain and zig-zag homewards, 
by wooded slope and ferny dell, through which flow stream- 



OUR LAST HALT. 



609 




lets whose silvery chimes ring welcome to us as we 
pass, till reaching the tea-plantation we feel once more 
amongst civilisation. Here 
we have our farewell bi- 
vouac ; and looking across 
upon the billowy moun- 
tains beneath which flow 
rivers, whose windings we 
had followed so many 
miles, we can trace by their configuration the course 
of the Great Rungheet, from lowland fen, up mountain 
gorge — up, up, to the ver}" snowy bosom that forms its 
birthplace. Ponies were sent from Darjeeling to meet 
us at this point, where I discard my dandy. Turning 
our backs upon Himalaya's majestic solitudes — the most 
vast and sublime of the whole earth — we become gfre- 
earious animals, once more to minp"le with the throne 
of men, content either to be anchorites amongst Nature's 
wilds, or take our place with others in the world's strife — 
happy anywhere, and wholly disagreeing with Sophocles, 
that ' Not to be is best of all.' 

Detachments of women overtake and pass us laden 
with oranges from Sikkim, which they are carrying in 
their long baskets to Darjeeling. 

The people in the green heights skywards look down 
upon us, suspending their toil ; and we soon pass patient 
women, and Pharaoh's daughters, and Miriams, and the 
little wide-awake Moses, lying snugly in their wee 

41 



6io 



THE INDIAN ALPS. 



baskets still, all looking as though they had been there 
ever since we passed them, now so many weeks ago. 
On past huts with graceful garlands of melon growing 
over the warm thatch, the fruit now ripe and golden. 
Little children frightened at our approach run in, and 




pariahs run out, barking furiously. On, on, till the plant- 
ation is left behind ; and passing beneath the large green 
fronds of the tree-fern, we see, by the smoke which lies 
under the brow of the great mountain yonder, that we are 
nearing the Bhootia Busti. 

All are awake now, and everything is bustle and life. 
Groups of swarthy and unwashed Bhootias, in crimson, 



ARRIVAL AT HOME. 



6x1 



and green, and olive, and blue, stand gossiping outside 
tumbledown doorways ; and idle Lepchas, their legs dan- 
gling over the ' khud,' sit gambling even at this hour of 
the day. Past a Lama carrying a ' mani,' and we feel we 
have not lost all association with the monks even yet. 
Past ragged old women spinning, very dirty but invariably 




smiling. They all come out of their huts to see us go b)% 
these child-like people, for they know we have been over 
into Sikkim, and have left our footprints on the mighty 
snows, and we are something to look at after that. Be- 
sides, have they not their own kinsfolk to greet, who come 
slowly wending their way upwards with loads which they 
have faithfully carried over almost 300 miles of mountain 
and valley ? Young women wearing white boddices and 
gaily-striped petticoats, others with ' sarees ' over their 



6 12 THE INDIAN ALPS. 

heads, holding babies on their hips, smile a timid welcome. 
Pigs, goats, fowls, pigeons, all vie with each other to 
impede our progress, till — oh, agonies ! some Bhootias 
are actually singeing a pig alive, preparatory to slaying 
him, their bosom companion, no doubt, scarce an hour 
ago. We hurry on here with eyes closed firmly and 
fingers in our ears. 

N earing Darjeeling and rounding the mountain spur, 
the evening breeze wafts towards us the sound of the 
peaceful convent bell which summons the gentle nuns to 
vespers. As we cast one glance behind us, the snows, 
catching the gleam of departing. day, are seen to be bathed 
in a glittering and tremulous mystery of rose, violet, and 
opal; whilst the sun, that ruler of the toilsome day, lingering 
longest on Kinchinjunga, as though he loved it, reclines at 
length on his bed of crimson cloud, telling Earth that it 
is her hour of rest also. The evening star uprising now 
takes his place — shining like a feeble lamp at first, but 
later on more brightly, as twilight gently folds its mantle 
over tired Nature and folds her to sleep. . 

Lights gleamed through the windows of our pretty 
mountain dwelling at the sound of our approach, gentle 
voices greeted us, and we were once more at home. 



i.on'don: printed isy 

sl'ottiswoode and co., new-stkeet square 

and parliament street 



i8 



